


Bluebird

by Hauntingme



Series: The Heart has Wings [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The 100 (TV) Fusion, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist Clarke Griffin, Clexa, Endgame Clarke Griffin/Lexa, F/F, Family Drama, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, LGBTQ Themes, Modern Setting Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:53:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 50,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24272386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hauntingme/pseuds/Hauntingme
Summary: My first fanfic didn't have enough clexa moments... I'm going to make up for it with this one. This is a daydream I've had for a bit now that I finally put to paper (MS Word :p): Lexa, confident as ever, gets her world rocked by our stunning, Clarke. I like a slow burn, but I promise to make it worth it (that's what she said).Summary: Lexa is brought back to her home-town at the request of her brother, Bellamy. She instantly feels an attraction to a certain blonde that seems to know Lexa's family very well. How has she gone without hearing about or knowing this beautiful stranger? Both are stubborn and equally lost; will they find something, together, beyond their fantasies?
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Series: The Heart has Wings [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824736
Comments: 145
Kudos: 692





	1. You're a Bluebird

**Author's Note:**

> This is a learning process for me, so PLEASE, if you have it, I will take all the constructive criticism offered. Also... always feel free to discuss or ask questions. I try to stay active in the inbox. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“So, it’s a red lace,” the girl pauses to wait on a response from Lexa. While the girl searched for her bra, Lexa had been preoccupied with a notification on her phone. 

“I need you here,” This was an unusual message to receive from her older brother. Expressing needs, let alone any type of vulnerability was not in her brother’s wheel-house of strengths or best practices. Despite this, Lexa didn’t allow the text to alarm her. She knew it was best to still herself and wait until further information.

Jan, or was it Jenny, taps her foot louder, “ahem.” 

“Huh, oh,” Lexa stands up from the bed, grabbing her pants from the floor, “I’ll tell the maid to keep an eye out for it.” Lexa finishes zipping her pants before throwing on a tee. Her wavy hair gets caught on a button in the neck line of her shirt. Unfortunately, her mane in all of its thick and wavy, brunette grandeur tended to be the ever consistent nuisance. More than once Lexa considered cutting it all off, but then where would her glory reside? It certainly wasn’t in her personality; arrogant, flirt, snob, rebellious, reckless are just some of the more flattering adjectives used to describe Lexa. Of course, it all depends on who you ask. 

With each quick step, the heels of Jerica’s Louis Vuitton’s echoed throughout Lexa’s royal suite. Lexa followed her guest to the entrance. 

“I can ask my driver to escort you home,” Lexa offers. Her guest leans in and gently pulls on Lexa’s shirt collar, drawing her into a chaste kiss before whispering, “such a gentleman.” 

With a grin, the girl exists the apartment. Lexa watches her walk down the stretching hallway. 

“So was that a no?!” Lexa follows up. She doesn’t get more than a wave of the hand in response. She shrugs and shuts the door. 

Lexa doesn’t waste any time hitting the call button her phone. 

“It’s two am,” Bellamy groans.

“You texted me, remember?” Lexa says through a smile. 

“True, but I didn’t expect you to see it now.”

“Are you serious?” Lexa laughs, “what about my life makes you think I’m in bed before three am?”

“Excuse me for thinking you contained yourself during the work-week.” Lexa can already picture her brother’s facial expressions now: stern eyes meant to portray disapproval with a sneaky, smirk showing that he secretly approves. 

“Anyway, what’s up with your text?” She redirects the conversation. 

“One of my instructors quit on me—the black belt. I need a quality instructor fairly soon and you’re the only one I can think of that has the means.” 

“Oh, wow!” Lexa verbally jabs at Bellamy, “You realize I do have work and social obligations, right?” She plays with the string from the now missing button on her shirt. 

“We both know you love work and play… and you can do your job from anywhere.”

Clearly Bellamy has thought his argument through. 

“When?” 

“Sooner the better, but within two weeks” Bellamy sighs, “does that give you enough time to make arrangements?”

“Make arrangements?!” Lexa let’s out an unruly laugh, “oh no, dear brother. If I do this, I’m staying with you.”

“God,” He whines, “you do know Anya lives here too, yea?” 

“You say this like she isn’t my favorite?” Lexa slips underneath the blankets in her over-sized bed. 

Anya is their sister. She was born second to Bellamy, with barely a year between Anya and Lexa. Because of their age gap, the two were often mistaken for twins growing up. Hell, they occasionally forgot they weren’t twins sometimes. Bellamy had a few years on the two of them, and this made him take the elder brother role even more seriously. Sometimes that meant he wasn’t always fun to be around. 

“You don’t think all three of us living in one space is a bit cramped?”

Lexa knows Bellamy is doing everything he can to avoid dealing with both of them at the same time. What kind of little sister would she be if she allowed things to be easy?  
“Nice try,” Lexa interrupts, “you have a 3200 sq. ft town house, dipshit. There is more than enough space!”

She could envision him pinching the bridge of his nose now.

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Lexa pushes.

“Yea, whatever it takes.” 

“You must be desperate,” Lexa pokes, “are you really my brother?”

“Lex,” Bellamy warns.

“Quick, where did I get the scar on my left, ass cheek?” 

“I’m hanging up now.”

Lexa hears the beep once the connection ends. She smiles staring down at her phone. Living in New York, several thousand miles from her siblings made Lexa lonely sometimes. An over-priced therapist would tell you this is partly why Lexa frequently has one-night stands. Who trusts therapists anyway? 

“Your life just improved!” Lexa texts Anya.

“fuck off, loser” Anya responds.

Lexa laughs, this was a typical Anya response. Living with her siblings was going to be just what the doctor ordered.


	2. Flying through your door

“Feed the top flap underneath all layers,” The instructor reminds Clarke. She exhales forcibly out of her nostrils. It’s only been two weeks since she started practicing Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, but, at the very least, she desperately wanted to master the belt tying process. 

“Thanks.” She tries to smile at him. She manages to finish tying the knot.

“In time, young padawan.” He laughs and bumps her shoulder. She sways with the gentle momentum from his push. 

“Yep!” She enunciates the p and returns to finishing her square knot. 

“Quick announcement!” Her instructor’s voice bellows throughout the dimly lit sparring room. Everyone pauses and gathers, encircling him.

“As some of you already know, thanks to the non-cryptic tweet from last week, Harper will no longer be an instructor here.” 

A few claps cascade throughout the room. 

Clarke didn’t have training sessions with Harper, but she heard the instructor was aggressive. Apparently, she risked injuring a student and called management weak for not pushing “real” athletes. 

“Since I’m the only other black-belt, I have asked my sister to fill in until I can find a proper replacement.” He pauses for questions. “I hope you all can welcome her when she arrives, which…” He looks down at his phone, “should be any moment now.”

Everyone turns to look at the door, as if their instructor had some sort of God-like quality, enabling him to summon someone. Nothing but a guy refilling his water bottle stands near the entrance. Bellamy shrugs, “well, at some point I guess. Do some quick warm ups while we wait.” He orders.

Clarke skips over to him, landing a punch on his shoulder, “you never mentioned Anya is a black belt?!” 

“Hey!” He rubs his shoulder, “She isn’t.”

Clarke tilts her head to the side; a blonde tendril escapes her top-knot bun, landing irritatingly close to her eye. She quickly pushes it back into place—a futile attempt. 

“I have another sister. Lexa.” Bellamy purses his lips.

“Excuse me?!” Clarke laughs, “Are we not friends?!” 

“Of course we are!” 

“Obviously not.” Clarke punches him again. “You never mentioned having another sister. I feel like I don’t anything about you!” 

Short of a year ago, Bellamy and Clarke met through some mutual friends. Well, “mutual friends” is misleading. Their introduction happened through an awkward blind-date orchestrated through Clarke’s mother, Abby, and Bellamy’s sister, Anya. Both Clarke and Bellamy were dating people at the time; Abby didn’t approve of Finn and Anya didn’t know anything about Bellamy’s girlfriend. However, they did get one thing correct: Bellamy and Clarke got along extremely well. As a result, a friendship budded from the encounter. 

“It never came up!” Bellamy laughs knowing how terrible of a defense this is.

Clarke arches her eyebrow. Bellamy shuffles his weight; right foot, then left, then back to right. She watches him squirm while she patiently waits out a better explanation. 

“Does Raven know?” A real, mutual friend of theirs. Bellamy shakes his head. 

“Well,” Clarke sighs, “at least I’m the first to know that.” Before she can ask him why he doesn’t talk about the other sibling, Clarke is distracted by the arrival of the sexiest woman she has ever seen. 

Clarke didn’t realize that Nike, the Winged Victory, ever came to life. Athleticism dripped off every ounce of this stranger. Clarke guessed the girl could be no shorter than 5’ 10”. Long, dark chestnut hair flowed around her shoulders and back, gently bouncing with every step. Clarke recognizes she is staring when she locks eyes with piercing green eyes. They hold each other’s gaze briefly before they are interrupted by Bellamy. 

“Finally!” He shouts to the stranger. 

Of course this was his sister. Why wouldn’t she be? Every other person in that family is gorgeous. Even with this, none of them held a light to Lexa. Clarke was captivated. 

Bellamy makes quick use of his time to introduce and work Lexa into the routines. It doesn’t take long before Clarke identifies why Bellamy trusted Lexa’s abilities to step in and train with little to no notice. She was incredible and so patient with novices. Clarke would be lying if she denied already imaging getting an opportunity to roll with Lexa. 

“You ready?” 

“Aching,” Clarke nibbles her bottom lip.

“Huh?” Bellamy snorts. 

Clarke shakes her head, “uh, uhhh um my arms are aching… brutal workout yesterday.” She hopes her recovery was enough to mask her gawking.

“No pain, no gain!” Bellamy grabs Clarke to fireman carry her to an empty spot on the mats. 

**************************

Lexa watches her brother carry the tantalizing blonde to other side of the room. She currently had her apprentice twisted in a shoulder lock. He wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon so she took a moment to sneak another look at the girl. 

Lexa didn’t have a type. She loved women and all their various forms, but she did have a weak spot for blondes. Especially, the ones with pouty, full lips and exuberantly, bright blue eyes. Sheesh. Lexa was going to catch a cold under the gaze of those glaciers.   
Amidst the lusting, she didn’t miss her own brother’s body language towards the girl. If her instincts were correct, and they were rarely wrong, she would guess big brother already has claim. Such a shame. 

“ahdgrusmf…” Lexa hears underneath herself. She looks down to see the white belt struggling beneath her. She chuckles to herself before rolling him into another submission. Poor guy, she thought to herself. 

“Try this,” she demonstrates an arching, sweeping motion until they swap positions, “next time you’re caught in this submission.” The win goes to the participant that has the most counters. Lexa learned this early on and implemented that way of thinking into every aspect of her life. It made her a formidable opponent on the mats and in her career. 

“We’re going to wrap things up here in ten. Want to order pickup?” Lexa hears Bellamy ask her over her shoulder. She shakes her head. She never understood why he never wanted to cook or seemed to enjoy anything about a home-cooked meal. 

“Do you have any groceries at home?” Lexa already knew the answer before asking, but she hoped her siblings would surprise her. She got in late from her flight last night so she didn’t have the time to scope out the kitchen supplies. Bellamy confirms her suspicions. 

“I’ll text Anya a grocery list. I want to cook.” She stands up to adjust her gi. Bellamy shrugs, “whatever, just make it quick because I am starving.”

“Hey!” Bellamy waves the blonde over. Lexa watches her stride over to where they are standing. She notices how graceful this girl maneuvered around the various submission attempts occurring across the mats. Lexa can feel her own cheeks flushing from her beating heart, which sounds more like traditional drums than an organ. Too bad the gi was hiding the muscles flexing in this girl’s walk. Ah, stop that—Lexa reprimands herself.

“Lexa, Clarke,” Bellamy looks between them, palms open, “Clarke, Lexa.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Lexa makes the first move, extending her hand for a handshake. Clarke takes her hand, and immediately Lexa notices how small the girl’s hands are compared to her own. She is accustomed to having larger hands than the girls she sees but something about the way Clarke’s mold into her own, felt charging and safe all at once. 

“Likewise,” Clarke slowly pulls her hand away. Lexa’s face floods with crimson once more. She didn’t realize how long she was holding onto Clarke’s hands. Stop acting like you’ve never seen a pretty girl, Lex. 

“Do you want to have dinner with us?” Bellamy cuts the tension. Lexa sees Clarke glance at her as if to ask permission. “You should join us!” Lexa throws on a lopsided grin, “I’m cooking.” Clarke’s eyebrows raise, “Is that a good thing?” Lexa wonders if Clarke is openly flirting with her. 

“Only one way to find out,” she challenges Clarke. She is rewarded with a full smile, reaching ear to ear. Clarke quickly nods. 

“I’ll need to shower and change first. Cool?” Bellamy and Lexa nod; undoubtedly both now picturing Clarke in the shower.


	3. Touch your Lips

It took Anya longer than expected to get back with the groceries. Apparently the lines were ridiculous due to upcoming cinco de mayo. Anya throws the groceries onto the counter, “do your own shopping next time!” She shouts. “It will be worth it and you know it!” Lexa calls back. Anya squints her eyes, crossing her arms trying to look dominant. Bellamy and Lexa got the tall genes of the family; Anya maxed out at 5’ 5” on a good day, with thick shoe soles. Lexa giggles as she rushes over to her sister, picking her up to slam her onto the couch. 

“Stop!” Anya shouts through her laughter, “I don’t care if you’re bigger than me. I can still kick your ass!” Anya wasn’t wrong. Despite being a black belt, Lexa had a difficult time besting her big sister. Anya was so calculating and exploited every one of Lexa’s weaknesses. Taking the warning, Lexa lets Anya up. 

It only takes Lexa a couple strides from the living space to reach the marbled kitchen. It irritated her that a kitchen as beautiful as this saw little to no use. Tsk. Well, that would change as long as she was here. She wasted no time gathering the ingredients, organizing them into piles to adjust her timing. She was half-way through preparations when the sound of Bellamy’s pathetic, snorting laugh bellowed throughout the house. It was followed by a delicate laugh, cascading through and between the air molecules with a tempo to match a bird’s song. Lexa assumed this laugh belonged to Clarke. She wondered what other sounds could come from the blonde’s lips. 

“Smells safe,” Clarke cuts through Lexa’s thoughts. She jerks her chin up, looking away from chopping red peppers to scrunch her nose at the girl. While Clarke leans over the counter to inhale the fresh ingredients, Lexa glimpses the peek-a-boo of Clarke’s bare skin as her shirt stretched up her torso, revealing a chiseled core. Lexa’s throat goes dry; what she would give to be that garment gripping the sides of the beauty. 

“Need help,” Clarke asks, once more interrupting Lexa’s thoughts. 

“Depends,” Lexa bites her lower lip, “are you going to fuck it up?” 

Clarke’s left, eyebrow arches. Without a word, Clarke grabs a nearby apron and immediately helps herself to washing broccoli. “Um,” Lexa giggles, “I’ve already washed those.” She stifled her laughter, like a tea kettle warning, and walked over to Clarke, placing herself directly behind the girl. Clarke jerks the broccoli out of reach before Lexa could take it. Blonde tendrils graze across Lexa’s face like a temptress gently teasing her prey with a feather; lavender and vanilla fill her nostrils and her lungs expand, taking every offered ounce. 

“Well,” Clarke tries to still the smile tugging on her mouth, but a playful glint in her eyes betrays her, “can’t be too careful. Pesticides are a real thing, you know.” 

“Touché,” The right-side of Lexa’s lips twitches upwards. She tilts her head down to face Clarke now with her back to the sink, holding the drenched broccoli. Lexa can feel the droplets absorbing into her socks, but she is unable to move, locked inside the blonde’s gaze. 

“Bastard!”

Lexa leaps backwards as broccoli bounces off the floor like a pom-pom hitting the turf after a touchdown. Clarke covers her mouth, but not in time to suffocate her gasp. With a heaving chest, Lexa peers around the column through to the living space to understand the source of the obscenity. She already knew it belonged to Anya, but was unsure of the reasoning. Lexa hoped it was a good one. It better be. 

It wasn’t. 

Where Bellamy and Lexa spent their free-time doing physical activities, opposite to that was Anya’s choice of recreation: gaming. Apparently, the burst of rage occurred because Bellamy stepped in front the screen just in time for Anya to be slaughtered on her game. Lexa walks up to them to find Bellamy with both hands up, corned by a furious Anya. 

“Why would you even walk through there?” Anya’s voice cracks through her shouting. Anya’s natural register was already a higher octave than her siblings, so anytime she shouts above that range, she becomes less of a human and more of an anime character coming to life. Bellamy’s mouth twitches, doing a terrible job hiding the spasms radiating throughout his body. It was clear he was amused by the unfortunate happenstance. 

“Anya, relax. This isn’t life or death.” Lexa tries to reason.

Normally, Lexa would have let them figure it out on their own, but with a guest present, she felt it was polite to ease the tension. Her attempts are futile. 

“Stay out of it,” Anya shoves her index finger into Lexa’s chest. If those fingers were blades, Lexa would surely have been impaled. Mirroring her brother now, Lexa raises both arms to slowly approach her sister once more. 

“Anya,” Lexa steadies her voice, “we have company.” 

“Clarke doesn’t count.” Anya scoffs. Lexa hears Clarke release a sharp laugh, straight from the belly, traveling through the room like a gust of wind. Just how familiar her siblings are with this girl, Lexa wondered. 

********************************

Since Clarke only lived two blocks from the Wood’s, she often frequented their humble abode. Most evenings were spent ordering take out, renting movies, and playing some shooter game with Anya. Clarke’s character was usually dead immediately upon spawning but she enjoyed getting to run around in the game, barrel pointed towards the sky. She liked spending time with the two siblings. Now, it looks like she has the opportunity to enjoy the third sibling, too; although, she wanted to enjoy this one in more intimate ways than she ever thought about with Anya or Bellamy. 

She figured the sibling would change out of her gi and compression pants, but she didn’t expect the girl to still drip with sexiness; only sporting a v-neck, white tee and loose fitting, grey sweatpants. Clarke found herself being distracted by the way the cotton held onto the taller girl’s lean waist. She poured herself a glass of water, hoping to quench some of the thirst rising in her. She hopped onto the counter as she sipped on the crisp beverage, watching the other girl move about effortlessly in the kitchen. She noticed how Lexa looked focused and peaceful at the same time. She wondered how both things could be true, but before she could ask, Bellamy bounded into the kitchen wearing his signature, tilted grin. Clarke couldn’t help but mirror his facial expression; she found her friend endearing.

“We would already be eating if you had let me order take-out,” Bellamy points out. 

“You’ll survive,” Lexa grumbles, barely audible while her top-half was buried deep within the refrigerator. He shrugs and walks over to Clarke, joining her on the counter. 

“You’re catching on quickly in class,” He offers to Clarke. She looks at him, both corners of her mouth reaching for the top, “thanks, I already want to be the best.”

He nods knowingly, “keep at it and you will be.” 

She didn’t understand where his confidence in her came from but she was grateful for it. Bellamy had tried for a while to convince Clarke to join his gym. However, it took being nearly attacked, coming out of a movie theater with some friends, to convince her to join. They were lucky and a nearby off-duty cop stopped the perp until things could worsen. She realized then that she never wanted to be defenseless; so that next day she showed up for her first day of training. 

“bzzz, bzzz”

Clarke reached into her pocket for her phone.

Raven: “Where the hell are you?” 

Clarke: “Down the street ;p”

Raven: “…seriously, you are obsessed with them.”

Raven: “am I going to see my roommate ever again?!!!”

Clarke: “such a needy girl”  
Raven: “oh baby, careful now >:)”

Clarke: “sorry, I met their other sibling today and they invited for dinner. I promise we can have a roomie night all to ourselves tomorrow. Deal?”

Raven: “Another one?! Are you having an orgy with them all?”

Clarke: “Gross”

Raven: “tomorrow sounds good. Wear protection tonight you animal, bye!”

Clarke silenced her alerts; she didn’t need any more interruptions like that. 

“Food is finished,” Lexa pulls the casserole dish from the oven. Clarke watches the ribbons of Lexa’s biceps and forearms flex and contract. 

“Ready to eat?”

“Starving.” The most honest thing to leave Clarke’s mouth to date.

The time it took to devour dinner was half the duration of prep time. Clarke felt kind of guilty for not savoring the dish, but after an hour of drills and rolling, she was starving. Clarke doesn’t recall anyone saying more than three words during dinner; all you could hear were forks tinging against plates. Sparingly, she would risk a moment to look at the brunette sitting across from her; sometimes she would meet the emerald eyes staring back at her. 

“This is delicious, Lexa” she managed to say between bites. Her statement was met with a crooked, toothless grin that made Clarke want to throw herself across the table to kiss the dimple that formed at the corner of those plump lips. She refrained. It didn’t make sense for her to react this way to someone she has only known for less than a few hours. That didn’t matter apparently because here she was, daydreaming about being held underneath the reincarnation of a Greek goddess. 

Clarke offered to help Lexa clean up the kitchen after dinner, but the brunette waved her off, insisting that guests don’t clean. Too bad Lexa didn’t realize that Clarke was more familiar with that kitchen than she. Also, too bad Lexa didn’t seem interested in more one-on-one time with Clarke since neither Bellamy nor Anya made any move to help tidy up. It was probably for the best, anyhow, Clarke needed to get home and into bed for her early meeting with a potential client. 

“Hey, guys, I am going to head out. Thanks again for dinner!” 

Bellamy and Anya jump up from the couch to meet her at the door. “I’ll drive you home,” Bellamy insisted. Lexa emerges from the kitchen, toweling off her hands, “it was nice to meet you, Clarke. I hope to see you again soon.” 

“You will.”

Lexa’s polite demeanor shifts as her pupils dilate locked in on Clarke. 

“Jiu Jitsu training tomorrow afternoon, remember?” Clarke teases; she noticed the darkness that cascaded across Lexa’s eyes. Evidently she isn’t the only one thinking un-friendly thoughts.

“Mmhhm” Lexa winks, “obviously.”


	4. We're Living in the Trees

Bellamy was able to drop off and arrive home within ten minutes. Lexa wondered if her brother tossed the girl out of the vehicle without slowing; that timing was insane. Fortunately, she learned that Clarke lived very close to her siblings. Dangerous; having a girl like that within reach was certainly going to get Lexa into trouble. 

“We need to talk, Lex.” 

Bellamy follows Lexa upstairs to her bedroom; here is the ‘talk’ she has been expecting since meeting the blonde. 

“About training or the blonde, dear brother?” Lexa wasn’t going to play games. Her older brother didn’t intimidate her in the slightest. 

“Clarke. You know her name.”

Great, he is mr. sensitivity this evening. 

“Uh huh,” The corners of Lexa’s mouth start to twitch. 

“Keep it platonic.” Turns out, he isn’t one for games either. 

“Why?” 

“Because you owe me,” Before she can say anything more, he turns on his heels and adds one last thing over his shoulder, “I won’t say it again, dear sister.”

Spasms flood throughout her body, exiting in an unruly laugh. She steadies herself against the door-frame to her bedroom.

“Are you serious?!” She squeaks, “This is what you’re using that card for?” 

“Yes,” He looks up at her from the bottom of the stairs, “is that going to be a problem for you?”

Lexa cocks her head to the side, placing a palm on her chest, “Me? I'm fine, it’s just one girl.” She holds up her left-hand in an attempt at the Girl Scout’s salute. 

“Good, then we understand each other.” 

“I’m so intrigued though; this girl, huh?” Lexa crosses her arms as she continues leaning against the wall. She has only been aware of one girl that Bellamy has been serious over, and that was over ten years ago. Hell, Lexa thought he had an affinity for the same-sex as she. 

“This conversation is over, Lexa.”

“Are you going to have the same conversation with her?” Lexa knew she was testing boundaries. His steps falter and he turns to look at her again. 

Lexa raises her palms, “hey, I’m just saying. She seemed interested in me, too.” 

“She is a friendly person. Not everyone wants to fuck you.”

“Ouch,” Lexa makes a hissing sound; the sound of a lit match once it touches water. With that, she turns and leaves her brother to stew. He may get to use the ‘card’ but she was going to get under his skin, regardless. 

*******************************************************************

Though she left due to an early morning obligation, Clarke found herself lying awake, on her laptop, looking up Lexa Woods. She didn’t have luck on any of the social media platforms she personally subscribed to, trying a few combinations of possible names: Alexandra, Alexa, Lexa… nothing. However, she is rewarded when Google brought her to a LinkedIn account. The profile ID proved this was the ‘Lexa Woods’ she was searching for. 

“CEO” 

“Holy fucks,” Clarke coughs. 

She wonders how old Lexa is. She was pretty sure Lexa was the youngest sibling; continuing her investigation, she googles the company title, “Trikru, Inc.” It was a company that focused on natural resources and earth rejuvenation. A link takes her to an article describing the foundation of the company. She chokes on her own spit when she comes across the founder, Gustus Woods. 

Clarke knew the Woods had money but she didn’t realize their family founded a multi-billion dollar company, and least of all, that the baby sister was running it! The article dated back to a couple years ago and centered on family tension with the announcement of Lexa Woods being named CEO of the company.

Clarke grabs her phone.

Clarke: “Is this why you don’t talk about Lexa?!” She includes the link to the article. 

Bellamy: “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

Clarke: “Don’t change subjects. Explaaaaain. Please.”

Bellamy: “Some other time. But yea, it’s a thing. Ha.”

Clarke: “Goodnight :)”

Bellamy: “Night”

“Are you watching porn?!” Raven bursts through Clarke’s door. 

Clarke slaps the laptop closed, “no!” Raven crawls into the bed, scooting Clarke out of her comfy spot, “what kind of weird shit you into, Griffy?” Raven tears the laptop from Clarke’s grasp. Lexa’s LinkedIn profile is still on the screen. 

Raven whistles, “Dayum, who is this? She is fucking hot.”

“Bellamy and Anya’s sister.” Clarke eyes are trained on the screen, studying the face in the profile. 

“Oh shit,” Raven brings her fist to her mouth, “this is why you went over for dinner tonight?”

Clarke nods, as the skin on her neck and cheeks transforms to a deep, shade of pink. 

“Poor Bellamy,” Raven shakes her head. 

Clarke’s eyebrows smash together, as she snaps her head towards Raven, “what is that supposed to mean?”

Raven’s jaw goes slack, “no way.”

“What?”

Raven shakes her head again, “you’re hopeless, Griffy. That boy is so smitten with you.” 

This takes Clarke by surprise; never once has she considered that Bellamy was interested in her in that manner. Sure, after his relationship to that one girl ended he has made an effort to spend more time with her. However, Clarke chalked that up to him being single and having spare time to spend with friends; that is what they agreed to be after that blind-date debacle, after all. Surely, he his feelings haven’t changed. Surely, he would talk to her about it. 

Anger swells in Clarke’s stomach, like the tremble of an instant pot’s steamer. She wasn’t sure where to place the anger; confusion over Bellamy or frustration with Raven for putting this thought in her head—the latter won. 

“Why are you like this?” Clarke snaps.

“Don’t take this out on me,” Raven leans in closer to the screen. Clarke closes it and stands up, gesturing towards the door, “get out.”

Raven purses her lips together, “you should talk to him.” 

“You should respect boundaries.”

“Ha!” Raven slaps Clarke’s ass, “Sweetie, you know better. But you’re obviously in your feelings about this so I’m going to let you pout alone.” 

Clarke wafts the air to expel any smugness left by Raven. She crawls back into bed, pulling the covers over her head. Several conflicting thoughts circulated and bounced around in her head, but one thing remained the same: Jiu Jitsu training was going to be an interesting class, tomorrow.


	5. I'm a Bluebird

“Again!” Lexa demands from her pupils. She started them off with mobility drills, chastising anyone that drops their form. After her conversation with Bell, she was not in any mindset to deal with any inadequacies. 

At last minute, he decided to train the kids’ class this afternoon, leaving Lexa to lead the adult class on her own. It wasn’t a big deal for her, but it proved that he wasn’t over last night’s conversation either. The space was good for them; for Lexa and Clarke, too.

She decided going into this class that she would ignore Clarke as much as possible; of course, this was easier said than done. Seeing Clarke in her rash guards was tantalizing, Lexa licked her lips in response to the yearning bellowing within her like a storm waiting to release its rains. 

It was so distracting that Lexa made everyone dress in their gi suits early. 

“You should learn this movement in these anyway,” she tried to rationalize. 

On a few occasions, Clarke tried to get clarification and critiques on some movements. Lexa would pass them onto her class assistant, a brown belt. He was more than adequate enough to help Clarke’s form; which Lexa could find little fault in. Even though they have known each other for a couple days, she wondered if Clarke would notice that she was being distant. 

She tried passing Clarke off to the assistant once more but a tap on her shoulder brings her attention to a set of cloudy, blue irises. Clarke looks up at her, hand on hip, brows furrowed. 

“What’s wrong?”

Clarke throws her hand up, “Funny, I’m wondering the same thing.”

She definitely noticed. Lexa takes hold of Clarke’s elbow and guides her to the corner of the room where there is room to roll. 

“Show me what you’re struggling with,” Like a submitting pup, Lexa drops to the mat, lying on her back waiting for Clarke to enter her guard. A cloud passes over Clarke’s features but she shakes it off, complying with Lexa by getting into position. Lexa’s legs wrap around Clarke’s waist, crossing, squeezing, and bringing Clarke closer to her frame. Clarke places her hands on either side of Lexa’s shoulders to steady herself from falling forward; Lexa wouldn’t have minded this outcome.

“Okay, what’s the first thing you do?” Lexa tries to keep it professional. Clarke attention focuses on Lexa’s gi, occasionally she would lift an arm to grab a section of the suit but doubt would have her replace her hand to its station. Lexa enjoyed watching the calculations dance across the girl’s face; it was cute. 

Nope, not cute, Lexa stop it.

Finally, Clarke grasps both lapels of Lexa’s gi, “yes, perfect. Now pull—s” Clarke is already jerking the lapels, crossing so that Lexa is forced to release her legs from guarding. Clarke passes and ends up fully mounting, straddling Lexa, still grasping the lapels. Their noses are inches apart. Clarke pulls tighter, bringing them even closer, and Lexa loses herself in an abyss swallowing blue waves. Feeling the weight of the girl upon her, she tilts her hips forward, closing the distance between them. Clarke responds by slowly grinding against the movement. The motion drives Lexa mad, all she wants is to take Clarke right then and there, but she made a promise. She needed to regain her composure. Luckily, problem solving was Lexa’s specialty. 

Lexa promptly arches, pulling on Clarke’s left-arm to sweep; now landing on top of the blonde, catching her in an arm-bar in the process. Clarke taps. 

“Any questions?” Lexa can hear the quiver in her own voice. She abruptly stands, offering a hand to help her student. A few beats pass before Clarke shakes her head and accepts the gesture, dusting herself off. 

Lexa was grateful for their timing, because shortly after, Bellamy enters the room after having finished training the youngsters. Lexa hoped he didn’t see her rolling with Clarke. Technically, nothing happened but the interaction definitely wouldn’t qualify as either platonic or professional. 

“We’re finishing up,” She calls over to him. He nods; at least he is acknowledging her now. Earlier, during their commute to the gym, Bellamy barely spoke to Lexa; most of those being grunts or a flitter of his hand. Lexa nursed the corner of her lip between her teeth. 

“Stop chewing your lip,” Bellamy hissed at her now that she was standing next to him. Lexa releases her lip which is now pointed downwards as she flashes glimmering eyes at her big brother. She can see him trying to suppress the smile brewing; he was a sucker for her puppy-eyes. 

“Stop being mad at me,” she tugs on his gi lapel. 

Bellamy throws his head back with a sigh, “fine.” 

“Excellent!” 

Lexa throws herself on his back, forcing him to crouch underneath her weight. 

“What are we celebrating?” A familiar voice interrupts. Bellamy and Lexa both pause, turning to face an eager Clarke. 

“I’ll let you handle that,” Lexa grunts as she slides off of Bell’s back to make a quick exit for the locker room, but not without sneaking one look at the forbidden girl now standing with her brother. 

********************

“Did I offend your sister?” 

Clarke glances towards Lexa just in time to see her exit the training area. 

“Not that I know of… why do you ask?” Clarke noticed that Bellamy’s voice didn’t have the same ring of confidence she is accustomed to him having. Maybe he is tired, she thought to herself. She understood that training the kid classes were often more draining than adult classes, but there was something delicate and fragile in his cadence. 

“She barely acknowledged me during class.” Clarke cracks her knuckles, “I barely know her so maybe I’m just being sensitive.” 

Bellamy places a hand on Clarke’s to pause the crackling and popping, “you haven’t offended her.” She notices the shadow of a smile hanging onto his lips; he is trying to reassure her. His attempt was appreciated but sadly, didn’t do much to ease Clarke’s concern. He didn’t know that she just shared an erogenous, no matter how brief, moment with his sister. 

Replaying it in her mind, Clarke is certain Lexa made the first move. Granted she was a lot more subtle than Clarke had been. Fuck, what if Lexa was doing some sort of legitimate jiu jitsu move and Clarke’s horny ass grinded herself into pervert zone? But weren’t they flirting pretty hard at dinner last night? She certainly was and felt that it was being reciprocated. 

She resists the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose and chooses to inwardly groan, instead. Clarke didn’t want give Bellamy any indication of what had happened earlier; especially since Raven put it in her head that the boy may have feelings for her. Speaking of…

“Hey, Bell.” She immediately regrets the seriousness in her tone and decides to raise her register, “can we hangout later? Just the two of us?” That didn’t sound natural either, fuck. She wondered why she had to be so god damn weird and anxious all the time. Nonetheless, this seemed to be the right thing to say because Bellamy’s face lit up and he immediately nodded, “hell yes.”

“Perfect,” she pops her wrist, “want to come over to my place then?” 

“I’ll bring the food,” he offers through a wide, toothy grin. Clarke was happy to see his mood shift but dreaded having a conversation with him tonight. She needed to understand where he stood with their relationship, and if she were being honest, she needed to figure out how she felt about him, too. Maybe before the emergence of his baby sister, Clarke would have been able to visualize being more than friends with Bell, but now she is consumed with getting to know the youngest Wood. 

“Perfect!” 

At least there would be food.


	6. Yeah, yeah, yeah

“Isn’t that the greasiest burger you’ve ever seen?!” Bellamy displays it between his brawler hands like a kid that just pulled their first tooth; Popsicle stained grin, proudly displaying their triumph to the world! 

Clarke didn’t have the heart to tell Bellamy that “grease” was not on her list of qualities she looked for in food, and that monstrosity in his hands surely had enough of it. God, was that thing dipped in it? She worried sitting this close to him would cause particles to find shelter in her clothes. 

“Um,” She steadies the grimace forming on her face by widening her eyes, “it’s a burger that’s for sure!” 

He ignores her, wasting no time to chomp into the layers of patty, bun, veggies, and you guessed it, grease. She slowly scooted further down the dining table bench; Raven and Clarke both agreed on a farmhouse theme for their shared townhouse. His lack of decorum suggested to Clarke that he only saw her as a friend. She cannot imagine anyone eating like that in front a potential sexual partner, but then again, she could just be projecting. She certainly wouldn’t eat like that in front of Le—um, anyone she wanted to sleep with. 

She deftly removes the bun from the patty, leaving herself with a deconstructed burger. After a few bites, she had to admit that the thing tasted pretty damn good. Bellamy has a talent for finding the best take-out. She wondered why he never seemed interested in cooking; his youngest sibling certainly seemed a fan of it. She really needed to stop thinking about Lexa. 

She takes a sip of her water to prepare for her opening line, “so, Bell. I was hoping we could discuss something… that’s uh, um.” She feels a canyon forming between her brows; she pops her index fingers, “about friends.”

“Which friends?” 

“oh, uh no, not friends.” This was going better than she thought. 

He chomps down the last bite of his burger. Good, she thinks to herself, she won’t have the chance to ruin his appetite. 

“Us!” She blurts a little louder than expected; Bellamy leans as if a gust of wind shoved him back. 

“We’re not friends?” His eyes widen, exposing a glint of amusement. Clearly, he can see she is struggling.

“No. Wait, I mean…” Her breathe forces it way past her lips in a whistling sound, “We’re just friend, right?” Bellamy breaks eye contact with her. She didn’t intend on putting him in box like this but she had to do something to stop the spiraling. 

“Yea,” his eyes narrow, “why do you ask?”

“Raven has this stupid theory that you’re in love with me or something like that,” Unable to look him in the eyes, Clarke focuses on wrapping the remnants of her burger in its plastic sheath. 

“I told her that was insane because you would undeniably talk to me about that,” she continues, waving her hands about like someone running around with sparklers, “right?”

Bellamy reaches out, stilling her hands from their propulsion, “of course.” 

The long gulp traveling down his throat doesn’t go unnoticed, but Clarke wants desperately to believe him. Otherwise, she would have to face the notion that her friend wanted more from her than she could give, at this moment. It’s settled; they are just friends. Now, this didn’t mean baby sister was fair game. If watching Bell tear into his food wasn’t enough to disturb her appetite, knowing that she may never get to touch Lexa certainly would.

“Cool,” she nods. 

“What movies are we going to watch?”

The rest of the evening, Bellamy and Clarke piled up on the couch underneath an ungodly amount of blankets, watching old westerns starring Clint Eastwood—her favorite.

**********************

“You’re in a cheerful mood,” Anya casually tosses the words at Lexa. 

Though Anya’s attention was trained on the screen, she did manage to notice her baby sister’s not-so-tantrum, tantrums. After learning Bellamy was spending the evening alone with Clarke, Lexa may have been unnecessarily closing doors, drawers, and lids a bit too forcefully. To top it all off, she couldn’t focus on her work obligations. It was impossible to make executive decisions when your mind is full of images of your brother pressing up against this gorgeous blonde you can’t get out of your head.

“Ugh,” Lexa slams the cabinet door, opening another one immediately. 

“Yooo, Lexi!” She hears Anya shout. 

She ignores her by continuing to rummage around in the kitchen. Silence fills the house; Anya must have paused the game because Lexa’s eardrums weren’t being bombarded by sounds of helicopters, blasting guns, and swearing. 

“Who pissed in your snacks?” 

“Cheerios.”

“Hello to you, too?”

Lexa stands up, tilts her head back, dragging her palms down her face, “the saying is ‘who pissed in your cheerios,’ dumbass.” She mumbles through her fingers.

“Whatever,” Anya squeezes past Lexa to grab an opened bag of twizzlers, popping a few into her mouth.

“What’s wrong?”

Oh, you know, just your brother getting dibs on a girl that you were pretty sure liked you too, but because he has the get out of jail free card, you don’t get to act on those desires, “nothing.”

Before Anya can press any further, the front door opens, revealing that Bellamy has already returned home. Lexa really didn’t expect him to come home until morning.

“You’re not sleeping over?” She prods. His eyes pierce through her, “obviously not.”

“Huh,” the corner of the right-side of her mouth races upward. 

“Couldn’t seal the deal, eh?” She ribs him with her elbow. Anya releases a low whistle, “Did griffy turn your down, Bell?”

“She said we’re just friends,” he mumbles as he grabs a bag of marshmallows before stomping off to his bedroom. For a moment, Lexa felt some empathy towards her brother, but that was short lived because that means she could still have a chance with the blonde.

She snaps out of her daydream to find Anya staring back at her, one eyebrow significantly more raised than the other. 

“You’ll get wrinkles like that,” Lexa pressed her index finger on her sister’s forehead, only for it to be swatted away immediately.  
“Why are you happy all of a sudden?” 

“I’m not, grrrrr….” Lexa snarls her nose, raising her hands up like claws. “See? I’m furious!”

“Back off, Lex. You forget I know you better than anyone. It doesn’t take much to realize you fancy Clarke, but I’m telling you now that is off limits.”

“You, too?!” 

Anya holds her finger up to Lexa’s mouth, silencing her, “No, but Bellamy has had feelings for Clarke for some time now. He doesn’t think I know, but I know. And YOU,” She presses her index and middle fingers into Lexa’s chest, “don’t get to come in and take it because it’s something shiny and new.”

“But—s” Lexa tries to speak.

“Absolutely not,” Anya squares up to Lexa. “Repeat after me: I will behave and be a good baby sister.”

Lexa rolls her eyes. 

“Say it.” 

“I will…. Good… sister.” Lexa manages under her breath, shoulder checking her sister en route to her bedroom. She needed some space from tweedle-dee and tweedle-do.


	7. Don't Go Changing

Lexa spent several days trying to get the blonde out of her head. She knew it wasn’t worth risking both of her siblings being pissed at her forever. She lived on thin ice with them anyhow. She hoped her increasing list of demands at work would be enough to occupy her, but Lexa hoped for a lot of things that Life had different plans for.

She didn’t categorically begin the day thinking she would end up at one of the gay bars downtown, but she needed some distractions. Not much was better at taking her mind off things like an over-priced pour of whisky and the company of a voluptuous stranger. Tonight’s girl was named, Lilac… or was it Lyndsay. It didn’t matter; all that mattered was this girl was free for the taking, and take Lexa did. 

It didn’t require much convincing on Lexa’s part to get the girl to agree on a steamy session in the bar’s restroom. Lexa looked good and she knew it; so did most of the single women at the bar. She showed up exploiting all of her best assets: dark, skinny jeans to show off her long legs, a black button down tee with the top 5 buttons undone to show off her cleavage that was being supported by her red lace bra. Technically, it wasn’t her bra, but it found its way into her suitcase on the trip over; finders keepers. 

After she finished up with Lilith, Lexa found herself searching for another, but with one boring conversation after the next, she found it impossible to focus on her mission. Maybe it was the booze? Lexa did drink a few more than normal. She debated on calling a Lyft home, but before she could payout her tab, she felt a gentle squeeze above her left bicep. 

“Hi”

Lexa slowly turns to face none other than Clarke Griffin; the girl she has been trying to erase all night, “Hey” she almost growls. The whisky has taken its toll on her vocal chords, leaving her voice more gravely than typical. 

Clarke nearly blinds her with her pearly white grin. Lexa enjoyed how plump the girls’ lips were and how they nearly split from the smile, just for her. 

She takes a moment to appreciate Clarke’s look tonight. Her hair, in all of its blonde glory, was fully let down, the length falling below her breasts with waves that ebbed and flowed near her exposed collar bone. She was wearing a simple golden necklace that hugged the borders of an olive green, maxi dress’ plunging neckline. Lexa mentally stopped herself once she got to the thigh high slit exposing soft notes of ivory skin begging for her to reach out and touch. 

“Ahem” Clarke lets out a melodic giggle. 

Lexa snaps her head up, with an apologetic grin. 

“You look nice.” Lexa’s eyes now squinting due to her shameless smile now that she got caught staring. 

“Don’t look so surprised, baby Woods,” Clarke places her hand on her chest, feigning offense.

Lexa leans in, closer to Clarke, her lips grazing the girl’s ear, “it isn’t nice to call people names.” It’s difficult to hear over the blaring sounds of eighties synth pop radiating and bouncing off the walls, but that doesn’t stop her from hearing the hitch in Clarke’s breath upon contact. Good girl, Lexa thought to herself. 

“Whoa, get a room!” 

Lexa looks over her shoulder to see an attractive woman approaching them. She has chestnut brown hair and is wearing a red dress that leaves little to the imagination; confidence radiating off of this girl.

“Raven, this is Lexa, Bellamy’s sister.” Clarke does a quick introduction. Lexa smiles, taking the girl’s hand, where she was met with a firm, slightly aggressive grip. She couldn’t tell if it turned her on or scared her. 

“Nice to meet you!” she tried to shout over the music. 

“You’re welcome” Raven smirks. Yep, Lexa decided this woman was scary as fuck. 

“Why aren’t you dancing,” Lexa hears Raven direct the question at Clarke, but is unable to hear Clarke’s reply. 

Overhead, Aly and Aj’s “Don’t Go Changing” ripples out of the speakers. 

Clarke bounces up and down, squealing; evidently this is one of her jams Lexa thinks to herself. Distracted by Clarke’s body, Lexa is caught off guard by the blonde tugging, gripping her wrist, pulling her towards the center of the dance floor.

She follows Clarke through the many faceless, bodies basking in shades of blue, pink, and reds on the dance floor. Once they get to the center, Clarke lets go of Lexa’s wrist so that she may twist and vibe with the melodies. Lexa watches the curves of Clarke’s hips glide along with the tempo, her arms, weightless above her head. The music seems to rush in to pump the blood throughout Clarke’s body. 

Lexa employs all of her will power to not reach out and press herself against Clarke. Her fingers tingle in unison with the flashing, club lights in competition with her own heartbeat. She realizes she is standing like a statue, watching the water nymph before her. To save some humiliation, she begins to move along with the music, too. Clarke wasn’t the only seductive creature on this dance floor. Lexa closes her eyes to let the music direct her like a puppet master with his marionette. 

She learned how to dance early in life; her mother thought it was the perfect solution for a hyperactive kid with little regard for rules and regulations. Her mom wasn’t wrong; dance helped Lexa learn to channel her energy and gave her the confidence she carries to this day. 

Lexa knew she could be alluring but she was surprised by the hands snaking around her waist. She opens her eyes to find that she is facing the girl from earlier, Lauren. Disenchantment swells in her chest; these were not the hands she wanted touching her. 

“Hi there.” The girl whispers. 

Lexa can tell the girl is plastered. This is the worst timing possible, Lexa thinks to herself. But before she can devise a plan to rid herself of the clinger, Clarke gently untangles the girl’s arms from Lexa’s waist. She sees Clarke whisper something to the girl, the girl nods, grinning and giggling as she staggers back to the bar. 

“You’re popular,” Clarke whispers below the ear, into Lexa’s neck; goosebumps sprint to meet her breath. Before she can return to her spot on the floor, Lexa grabs her wrist, twirling the girl her as she pulls her flush against her own body. Upon contact, Clarke gradually begins grinding against the front of Lexa’s body. 

Lexa matches Clarke’s swaying with her own hips, hands grabbing the blonde’s to pull them overhead. Clarke drops her hands behind Lexa’s head, twisting her fingers into the dampened, chestnut mane, as Lexa drops her hands to grab Clarke’s waist, pulling her tighter. Lexa traces Clarke’s neckline with her nose, breathing in aromatic notes of sweat mixed with lavender and vanilla; Clarke was intoxicating. 

************************

Clarke tried ineffectively to steady her racing heart. She was learning that being in the arms of the green-eyed, goddess was more satiating than she could have imagined. Not wanting to lose this high, she greedily holds onto Lexa’s thick, curly hair. A moan escapes her belly when she feels Lexa breather her in. Clarke hoped the music was loud enough to cover her vulnerability. God, Lexa’s hands felt so good; she doesn’t want them to ever let go.

The second Clarke saw Lexa standing at the bar, looking like a model dipped in sex, she knew this night was headed for trouble. 

“…lamy” 

Clarke realizes Lexa is saying something to her, but she couldn’t hear over the music. Did she say something was lame? All too soon, Lexa releases her grip on Clarke and steps away. Before she can protest, Clarke sees the reason for the abruptness: Bellamy. Shit, Clarke forgot that she and Raven made plans to meet him at the club. Had she known Lexa would be there, she would have never made such a foolish move. 

“Bell!” She waves him over. Maybe it won’t be a big deal. 

Either the blue in the strobe lights is making his face look menacing, or Bellamy Woods was pissed. Clarke felt a tremble traveling up her spine; like that time her mom caught her fooling around in the shed with her lab partner, Niylah. 

“Lexa,” Bellamy spits, completely ignoring Clarke. 

“Bell, chill, we’re just dancing.” Lexa laughs. Clarke doesn’t know where the humor is because she feels many things and amusement is not one of them. 

He looks to Clarke for confirmation; she nods in agreement. What else can she do? Bellamy and Lexa walk over to a private, booth. Their conversation starts off animated but they seem to come to an understanding, with Bellamy visibly laughing patting his sister’s shoulders. The tension that was building in Clarke’s neck begins to relax, and she hoped this meant she could resume her dance with the younger Woods. But to her dismay, Lexa doesn’t rejoin them, rather she goes directly to the bar and hands the bartender her card. 

“Is Lexa leaving?” Clarke asks Bellamy once he reaches her. 

“Yea, she has some plans with Anya tonight.” He offers, “She wanted me to thank you and wish you a good night.”

“Why couldn’t she do that herself?” Clarke barks. Lexa was so confusing; one minute she is hot, then the next she is cold, acting as if Clarke doesn't exist. How can Lexa be so aloof after the moment they shared? Clarke supposed Lexa had many moments like that; otherwise, she would still be right there, with Clarke, not off chasing who knows what.

Bellamy shrugs. 

“Let’s dance!” Raven bursts through the tension, wrapping her arms around Clarke’s neck. Clarke couldn’t help but be tickled by her inebriated friend. She decided to forget the weirdness that occurred with Bellamy and Lexa; this was supposed to a fun night for the dynamic trio.


	8. The Distance

“My pleasure.” The barista brazenly flashes a grin, and Lexa rewards her with a wink. 

Walking away, she twists the cup in her hand and was pleased to find the cute red head’s phone number on her nitro, cold brew. She would definitely be using this one later. Tucked away, near the honor system library, she finds a quiet nook to settle her laptop and coffee. Lexa’s stomach chose this moment to practice its rendition of historic whale mating calls; she was already regretting not ordering the everything bagel. 

“Where were you ten minutes ago?” Lexa fusses at her stomach. 

“Off your meds already, commander?” 

Lexa knew that voice, so she didn’t have to think twice before flashing two birds in response. 

“Hahaha, c’mon you know I play!”

She is already standing up to greet him, “Lincoln!”

He grabs her, hoisting her in the air as if she weighed no more than a backpack. Lincoln was a massive dude; easily weighing in over 200lbs and nothing shorter than 6’ 6”. As far as he was concerned, Lexa might as well be a backpack; he gently sets her back down to the ground.

“I’m glad we could meet up, Linc. How are you? How are Octavia and the babies?”

Lincoln is the accountant for Trikru, INC. Lexa doesn’t trust anyone more to handle the company’s budgeting and finances than him. From the start, they were a formidable team; finding multiple ways to not only save the company money but to also increase wages for all Trikru employees. Lexa understood that to have a successful business, you have to take care of your employees first and foremost; without them, the company was nothing.

“Good and great!” His face lights up at the thought of his family. 

“How are you, commander?” 

“Why do you insist on calling me that?” 

Becoming the CEO of her father’s company, at such a young age, landed Lexa many nicknames. She wasn’t just known for conquering most of the secretaries in the office, but also for her dominance in securing major deals for the company. Swelling with pride, her dad saddled her with the aforementioned nickname; she found it pretentious and Lincoln knew that. 

“Because you’re my favorite,” He puckers his lips at her; Lexa rolls her eyes.

“Anyway, thanks for meeting me out here. I need you take a look at section c, chapter 7, please. I have some concerns about the vendor’s ability to meet scope.”

It was convenient that Lincoln was already in town on a family trip to visit with Octavia’s parents. Lexa felt a little guilty for pulling him away for work-stuff but this was time-sensitive. 

“I see why you’re concerned; I’ll have Murphy run some diagnostics before we advise moving forward with the contract.” 

“That sounds perfect, thanks Linc.” 

“So, how is being back home?”

Lexa tries to mask any emotions daring to escape; she doesn’t want to go into detail about how she and Bellamy have already found another reason to be at each other’s throats. It’s been a few weeks since the night at the club and Lexa still doesn’t feel like talking to her brother. Bell made a few peace offering attempts but she just waved him off.

“As expected,” she takes a sip of her beverage, locking eyes with Lincoln over the rim of the cup. 

“My parents are having us all over for dinner this evening.”

“Ohhhh, ewwww,” Lincoln sneers. He has witnessed more than once the type of drama that emerges from a complete Woods’ gathering; mostly ending with the eldest and youngest siblings trying to rip each other apart. Lexa didn’t have to tell him she was about to enter a shit storm.

***********************************************

“Great job on the mats today, Clarke!” 

Bellamy praises her; a few of her peers clap her on the back offering their own applauses. Today was open roll and she managed to tap out all of her opponents; she has come a long way from that girl too frightened to move at the movie theater. 

She was proud of herself, too, but felt some of the credit should go towards Lexa; not for reason you may think. To say Clarke was fueled by her frustration from not receiving more than a “hi” or “what’s up” from the brunette since the night at the club would be an understatement. Clarke continued to spend most evening with the Woods, playing games, eating too much takeout, but all without the presence of Lexa. The most she would see Lexa l is whenever she was escorting some random girl to and from her bedroom; it was during these times Lexa might grace Clarke with a “hello.”

“Thanks,” she tries on her best acting skills to plaster a well-mannered smile on her face for her peers’ sake. 

“Got dinner plans already?” Bellamy squats next to Clarke, making a gesture, offering to fold her gi. She waves him off; she was very particular about the creases. 

“I feel like I’m about to,” the corners of her mouth turn upwards. 

“My parents are having us over for dinner and my mom said she would like to meet you.” 

“Oh,” Clarke takes her upper lip into her mouth, “why?”

Bellamy lets out a wheezing laugh, “because Ayn and I are constantly telling them about you!” 

Clarke knows this is a sweet sentiment, but family stuff was a tricky subject for her. It’s been years since Clarke last had any sort of a family gathering with her own parents. The thought of them made her heart ache, she blinks her eyes to fight against the geysers threatening to burst. 

She could tell this meant a lot to Bellamy and not wanting to let him down, she agreed to go. 

“How should I dress?”

“With one foot at a time….” Bellamy tilts his head at her. 

“Never mind,” she snorts, “I’ll just text Ayna.”


	9. Promises

“I thought Anya was joining us,” Clarke reaches to grab the seatbelt, slightly burning her fingers on the buckle, “ouch.” Bellamy looks up from buckling his seatbelt, brows furrowed, “all good?” She quickly jerks her head up and down, fanning her hand, “mostly surprised me.” 

“Anya and Lexa will be meeting us there.”

“That isn’t energy conservative,” Clarke tries to mask her disappointment, as Bellamy puts his SUV in drive, slowly backing out of Clarke’s driveway.

“Correct, but Anya has some errands to run and Lexa will do anything to avoid spending time with our parents…err well, my mom.” Bellamy taps his fingers on the steering wheel; she can sense his unease.

“Want to play some music?”

“Only if I get to choose,” Clarke sticks her tongue out at him. 

Bellamy’s taste in music was an acquired taste, like drinking over steeped tea without any cream or honey. His chest releases a laugh that should have cracked the windows; it certainly affected Clarke’s ears. She raises her hands, shielding her eardrums from the assault, giving him her best scolding glares. Once his shoulders stop bouncing, she figures it is safe to lower her hands that she may enable the Bluetooth on her phone, selecting one of her favorite playlists. She sinks into the warm, leather seats as Blink 182’s ‘I miss you’ lulled her into a daydream only a good car ride can give.

It only takes them thirty minutes to arrive at the silver gates protecting the towering structure that looked more like a castle than a homestead. She cranes her neck to follow the vine paths running up the exterior of the assembly, “wow” she mutters to herself, barely audible. 

Once they reach the end of the long driveway, Bellamy slams the gear in park. Instantly, a tall, gorgeous woman is walking towards them wearing a familiar smile. Bellamy bounces out skipping over to greet her, “hey beautiful,” he says while hoisting her into the air, placing a kiss on her chiseled, cheekbone. 

Clarke takes a few beats to study the pair; this was undoubtedly his mother, Becca. Her long, thick hair matched the tones of Bellamy’s own mop, but her face and mannerisms reminded Clarke of someone else. 

“Clarke, so nice to meet you!” Becca pulls Clarke into a warming embrace. She is a hugger Clarke thinks to herself, “likewise.” 

“Come, come I have so many questions.” 

Clarke feared this night would require talking about herself entirely more than she was comfortable with. She sifts through her mental rolodex on etiquette to find the most respectful way to dodge all of those bullets. Fortunately for Clarke, Becca’s questions were vague and far from intrusive. Clarke found that talking to Becca was easy and she wanted to gain the older woman’s approval. Clarke couldn’t help but study her; the way she would square her shoulders, chin up anytime she relayed a story about her son; occasionally pulling her hair to the side, only for it to spread evening across her shoulders repeatedly; how her structured cheekbones flexed whenever irritation skittered across her eyes, usually whenever Bellamy was teasing about something that was obviously an inside joke.

It isn’t until Becca starts sharing stories about her youngest does Clarke finally realize the resemblance between the two. Becca is a carbon copy of Lexa, or rather, Lexa is a copy of her mother. They share many features and mannerisms, god, they mirror one another. Clarke inches closer to the edge of the seat, leaning in to capture every detail of Becca’s story, “and that’s how I knew Lexa would be my hellion. I wouldn’t have her any other way, honestly. Did you know she is her father’s double?” 

Clarke shakes her head; she knows very little about the Woods sire. She has looked at photos of him, but you couldn’t convince her that Lexa and Gustus were twins based on looks; Becca wins that race.

“She looks like me but is Gus through and through. I swear those two can speak telepathically.” Becca tries to stifle her amusement at her own joke.

Clarke notices a dark cloud come over Bellamy’s features. She wonders if there is some unresolved tension between the father and son. Should she try to help him resolve those feelings? That thought is interrupted by the front door bursting open. 

“Speak of the devil,” Becca stands to meet them. 

Clarke’s beating organ starts doing double time once Lexa enters the room. She looks down at her chest as if to scold it for its betrayal. Get a grip; she internally tries to silence the nerves. 

“Hi, Clarke” 

She looks up to find Lexa standing next to her with two dimples hugging the curves of her lips. 

“Hey, stranger.” She wasn’t about to let Lexa get away with ignoring her for weeks. Lexa’s aptitude for reading between the lines made sure the dig didn’t go unnoticed, “I’m sorry” she whispers into Clarke’s ear as they embraced for a polite hug. 

Clarke’s gaze followed Lexa as she embraced her mother. Lexa was wearing a light, loose fitting blue button down shirt with the sleeves cuffed at her forearms; this was paired with tapered khakis and brown wing tipped oxfords. She was convinced the girl could make any outfit look sexy. 

Clarke was happy with her choice to consult Anya for dress attire before coming out here. Anya advised her to go with something similar to boho chic; as luck would have it, this would fit nearly every article of clothing Clarke owned. She wanted to dress respectfully, but also knew Lexa would be there so Clarke picked out a dress that exposed just the right amount of cleavage. Her handiwork paid off judging by the amount of times she caught Lexa sneaking glances at her.

“Yes, thank you.” Clarke says to the server offering to top off her Rose`, pleased with herself. 

*******************************************

Lexa was convinced Clarke chose that dress with sole intentions of torturing her. It was agonizing to not be able to reach out to feel how soft Clarke’s skin was under that garment; Lexa tries to dry her palms on her pants as the temperature increases with every beat of her chest. 

Becca decides Clarke needs to see the balcony and drags the girl outside with her. Knowing her mother, this was the woman’s move to start asking more personal questions. Clarke may not be dating any of them but Becca knew at least one of her children had intentions of changing that; she needed to make sure Clarke met certain standards. Not wanting Clarke to be led into a trap, Lexa decides to join them, nearly running into her mother as she tries to catch up to them. 

“Never knew of you to be this excited about patio design, Lexa.” Becca says through the tight line in her lips. 

“Oh yea,” Lexa sneaks a wink at Clarke, “thinking about picking it up as a hobby.”

“Ha!” Becca covers her mouth, shocked at her own outburst. 

After some mundane conversation about interior/deck design and color schemes, Becca excuses herself to tend to dinner preparations; which entails checking in with the kitchen staff. Lexa was finally alone with Clarke. 

“Hey” She walks over to stand near Clarke, casually grazing shoulders with the blue-eyed beauty. The wind was gracious enough to carry hints of lavender and vanilla, washing it over Lexa. Her body relaxes at the familiarity. 

“You say that a lot,” Clarke doesn’t remove her eyes from the horizon stretching over the 100 acres of land owned by the Woods. 

“I know, I just get so tongue-tied around you” Lexa holds her tongue between her teeth. 

Clarke turns to face Lexa, seeing the spark of amusement swimming in a sea of green, “you’re so full of shit.”

Laughter erupts from Lexa’s belly; she bends over trying to stifle the convulsions. 

“hardy har har,” Clarke continues, with zero inflection in her voice. 

“Seriously though, you are right. I’ve been a jerk lately. Can we start over?” 

Lexa looks down at her own outstretched hand, hoping that Clarke will accept the truce. Just as she was about to pull away, Clarke presses her hand into Lexa’s, “I’m pretty easy to talk to… so if something is up, just tell me ok?” Lexa nods in agreement, “fair enough.”

“Hey, they are about to start serving dinner.” Bellamy interrupts; Lexa drops the hand she is still holding. 

“Anya is just inside if you want to her to show to the dining room; I’ve got to talk to Lexa real quick.”

Once the door closes behind Clarke, Bellamy wastes no time addressing his concern. 

“What are you doing?”

“Talking to Clarke, Bell. I’m allowed to be friends with her.”

“Is that all you’re doing?”

He doesn’t have to say it; she already knows he doesn’t trust her for shit.

“What is the big deal?” Remembering that sound travels like an amphitheater on this balcony, she lowers her voice, “you said Clarke told you that you guys are just friends.”

“Yea, I know that,” He whines, pinching the bridge of his nose before shaking his fingers at Lexa, “it isn’t about that, Lex.”

“What’s it about, Bellamy; because you’re acting like a prick with some sort of ownership over Clarke.” She doesn’t have to worry about shouting now that she is inches from her brother’s face, a fight immersing deep within her bones. He takes a single step back, “You.”

“Me?”

“Lexa, you know you never want anything other than something physical with a girl. Clarke may not have romantic feelings for me but I care about her. I care enough to protect her from you. Clarke has been through a lot the past few years and your hurricane is the last thing she needs blowing through.”

Lexa takes a moment to let the words fall to the ground, weighted down by their truth and implications. 

“I think she can decide that for herself,” Lexa squares her shoulders, “I may not know Clarke’s history but I bet I can say she isn’t the type of girl that would want a guy making decisions for her.”

Bellamy’s demeanor deflates, he plops down into a nearby chair, “god, Lex you’re right.”

“I know your heart is in the right place, Bell, but you’re jumping to conclusions. What makes you think Clarke would even want something more with me?”

“Because you’re just like him,” He lowers his voice; Lexa can barely hear his words, “you know how to make them fall for you before you leave.” 

“Geeze, I know our dad isn’t a saint but you make him sound like a sociopath.”

“See. It’s that shit right there, you defend him no matter what he does! No matter who he hurts!” 

Years ago, a 23 year old Bellamy was serious about a girl named Echo. Lexa had never before seen her brother this proud and sure of himself, “this is the girl I’m going to marry” He would say anytime someone would listen. It seemed like the perfect pairing; Gustus and Becca both approved of her and fully supported their son’s intentions. Hell, even Anya and Lexa got along with the girl. Of course, that all came to a crashing halt when Bellamy walked in on Gustus and Echo going at it in one of the spare bedrooms. Gustus didn’t hide the fact he pursued women outside of his marriage to Becca, but they had an understanding, an arrangement that worked for the two of them. Though this worked for the married couple, it did not apply to Bellamy or his relationships. 

The betrayal broke him. It was hard for a younger Anya and Lexa to grow up witnessing their older brother battle through his depression and anger. As middle children often do, Anya put it upon herself to be the eternal peace keeper to help protect Bellamy and his fragility. Lexa always felt pity was one of the worst things you could do to a person so she refused to treat him any differently. She wanted him to return to that strong, carefree brother she idolized as a child; parts of him returned but others were lost to this man sitting before her. 

“Bell, breathe.” She places a hand on his shoulders; her hand rises and falls with his heavy breathing. 

“I haven’t felt strongly for anyone in a long time, Lex. I haven’t allowed myself to, but Clarke got in. When I see you and I the way she looks at you, I am reminded of him and…” His sentence ends there, refusing to speak Echo’s name. 

“He fucked up, I don’t deny that,” Lexa scoots him over to join him in the chair, “but you have to find a way to move past it; not for him but for you. This is eating you alive.”

“I can see that you really care about her. She is lucky to have someone like you looking out for her,” She rubs his back, “but you are overstepping.” She continues, “Listen, I don’t have any intentions of hurting the girl and I can just be a friend to her. I’m not a predator, Bell.” 

Lexa wasn’t lying to him. Obviously she wanted more than anything to touch Clarke but it wasn’t anything more than that. Bellamy knew her and she could never deny being a slave to her desires, but she never intends on hurting people. She always made a point to communicate to her lovers that she would never be able to give them anything more. Lexa could always see the goodness in her father, past his transgressions, because she saw herself in him. She recognized the isolation that acted as a backdrop in his eyes; something that relationships and feelings had an amplifying effect on. 

“You’re right. I haven’t been a good big brother lately… I should have given you the benefit of the doubt.” 

“Yes you should have, because you wasted your get out of jail free card on this!” She pops up from her seated position, now towering over her brother. He grins up at her. 

“Now it belongs to me!” She curves her fingers to mimics the menacing laugh of a cartoon character, “Muhahaaha.”

He drops his head in defeat before allowing Lexa to pull him up so that he joins her in a standing position. 

“Time to eat!”


	10. I Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, but I wanted to upload some Clexa interaction (real quick) after that HEAVY chapter...sheesh. Next chapter is the party... it's going to be fun *wink*

Clarke was up late working on a piece for one of her recently acquired clients. It was tricky one; it hadn’t decided if it wanted to be romantic or dreary. It didn’t matter to Clarke, she would just let the brush and oils make that decision for her. Dipping her brush into the odorless paint thinner before loading it with a new color, she catches a glimpse of the time through a reflection in her mirror. 

“One am already?” She says to her empty room; one that Raven helped her turn into a studio. Arching her back with hands stretching above her head, suddenly Clarke can feel how tired she is. Suitably, she was at a convenient stopping point with her project so she made her way to the bedroom; thinking about the various greens spilling over the canvas. Clarke is reminded of a particular set of green eyes with golden specs radiating from the pupils. She pulls out her phone. 

Clarke: you awake?

Lexa: depends

Clarke: so that’s a yes

Lexa: no…. :p

Clarke: Guess what

Lexa: You can’t stop thinking of me

She rolls her eyes; she was immune to Lexa’s haughtiness by this point. After the dinner with the Woods a few weeks ago, Lexa gave Clarke her number; told her to keep her honest should she start ignoring her again. It didn’t take long for them to settle into this harmless banter.

Clarke: … you wish

Lexa: lmao

Clarke: This weekend is my birthday weekend!

Lexa: Nice; big party?

Before befriending the Woods, Clarke didn’t put much effort into celebrating her birthdays. She always held ambivalence toward the day; it always seemed like it was the week of bad luck. She has only broken one bone, a big toe, and it occurred during her birthday week; she had a boyfriend break up with her the day before her birthday; her first car made its last trip on her way to celebrate at the cabins with Raven and some friends. The list goes on, but meeting Anya and Bellamy seemed to turn that luck around. The siblings were great at planning low key, days filled with all of Clarke’s favorite things. Since they were the ones doing the planning, and they kept it simple enough, everything tended to go smoothly.

Clarke: Kind of

Clarke: was considering inviting you

Lexa: Oh

Lexa: what does it take to get an invite?

Clarke sits up in her bed, crossing her legs. She toyed with the idea of sending something overtly flirty but worried that would cross some sort of boundary. Tension between the siblings seemed to clear after the big family dinner; Clarke doesn’t know what occurred but was grateful for the atmospheric shift. She settles with something safe.

Clarke: Moose Tracks

Lexa: I can do that

Clarke: Perfect, I’ll see you then! 

Lexa: when/where

Clarke: ask your siblings :p 

************************************

Lexa was already aware of the upcoming birthday; Bellamy and Anya haven’t shut up about the thing for two weeks now. Apparently, they worked some details out with Raven to recreate the vibe of college parties she would throw with Clarke. Lexa already planned on attending but definitely hoped Clarke would extend the invite. 

She grins down at her phone before tossing it towards the foot of the bed, narrowly missing her company’s feet. The cute red head from the coffee shop started to stir, rubbing her eyes, “did I fall asleep?”

“Looks that way,” Lexa grinned and nodded towards the girl’s folded clothes on the ottoman. She never allowed sleep overs, but would let her playmates take naps before she sent them on their way. She figured this was only fair because she spent a lot of effort exhausting the poor things. 

“I guess that means I gotta go,” the barista crawls up Lexa’s body. 

“I can call you a Lyft,” Lexa offers. The girl shakes her head, “I’m capable of getting myself home, thanks though.” She places a peck on Lexa’s cheek. 

“Let me walk you out then,” Lexa returns the peck. 

When Lexa returns, she catches Anya rummaging through the drawers; looking for twizzlers Lexa would bet money on it.

“Second cabinet on the left,” Lexa points. 

“Excellleeent…” Anya coos once she has the chewy snacks in her hands. 

“Have I seen that one,” she chomps off a large piece of the candy, “before?” 

“Uh, she has been over once before, yes.” 

Anya makes her eyebrows do a dance, wearing an eerily similar lopsided, grin as Lexa. 

“Didn’t know you double-dipped, Lexi!” Anya teases, covering her mouth with her wrist to stop twizzler from flying out of her mouth.


	11. Pretty Please

Before she could even find a spot to park, Lexa could hear the notes of Dua Lipa beats rushing out of Clarke’s place. Bellamy and Anya left earlier than she, so that they may get the townhouse ready for the big soiree. Straightaway upon walking through the front door, Lexa is nearly hit by a beach ball; they definitely got the college party vibes down she thought to herself. It’s been nearly five years since Lexa graduated college, and she was excited to relive some of that youthful outrageousness. 

“You brought more goodies?!” 

Lexa looks over her left shoulder to find Raven standing within inches of her. She was amused by how quickly Raven appeared. Remembering that she was asked a question, Lexa looks down at the recyclable bag in her hands and holds it open for Raven to peer into: Moose tracks, grape pedialyte, and gin. 

“Interesting combination,” Raven’s left eyebrow twitches in unison with the corners of her lips, and Lexa pulls her own between her teeth to stifle the giggles bubbling in her chest. She may or may not have threw back two shots before exiting her Jeep; she definitely did.

“Where can I set this down?” Lexa flashes her a charming smile. “Follow me,” Raven grabs Lexa’s wrist, pulling her into the kitchen. There Lexa finds an adorable blonde sitting on the bar, both hands gripping the counter. When blue finds green, the girl squeals, “Lex!” 

When Clarke leaps off the counter to greet her, Lexa’s heartbeat skipped in harmony. The blonde wasted no time in throwing her arms around the brunette; tip toeing to reach the taller girl. Lexa gently leans back, slightly raising the shorter girl off the ground, burying her head into loose, blonde tendrils. 

“I thought the party started at 8?” Lexa asks once she sets Clarke back down to the ground. She was only thirty minutes late but judging by Clarke’s demeanor, she has been partying long before eight. 

“You start at eight,” Clarke playfully pokes Lexa’s collar bone. Lexa drinks in the glimmering blue eyes staring up at her, creased by the stretching grin Clarke was wearing. Someone bumps into Lexa, slightly pushing her forward, closer to Clarke. She told herself that being friends with the girl would be easier, but seeing her now, in this proximity, was a real test. 

“Lex. Drink. Now.” Anya forces a cup of… only the universe knows, into Lexa’s hand. Not expecting the concoction to taste good, she shoots the drink fast enough to avoid tasting it; hints of rum linger on her tongue. Well, at least she knew one of the ingredients. 

“Dear lord, Anya.” Lexa chokes. 

A few people Lexa has never seen before gather Clarke, dragging her with them to another room. A funny feeling blooms in Lexa’s stomach to watch the girl go.

“They are starting a new game of beer pong,” Anya interrupts Lexa’s thoughts, “over there.” She indicates to the far corner of the living space. 

“Hell yes.” 

Lexa immediately makes her way over to gaming table; her competitive nature taking the driver seat. She walks up to find Bellamy meticulously setting up the triangle format of red solo cups. Of course he would be one manning the beer pong games; the two siblings loved any opportunities to demonstrate athleticism. The devilishly grin on his face indicates he is pleased to see his sister approaching the table.

“Ready to lose?” 

“Talking to yourself again?” she snatches the ping pong out of his hand, “Bell, we should get that checked out.”

After three rounds, two wins for Bell and one for Lex, she can feel the effects of the three additional drinks Anya snuck into her hand. It was amazing how Lexa could easily fall right back into her college self; hand her a drink, no questions and she is drinking it. She never liked being the sober one at parties; though, she did learn how to handle her liquors. 

“No more,” She says to her sister has she hands her the empty plastic cup. Anya nods, “did you bring your grape juice?”

“Pedialyte” 

“Juice. It’s for babies for god’s sake.” Anya snickers. 

“This is why you have hangovers and I don’t.” Lexa puffs her chest and blows a gust of wind when her sister pokes her; they both laugh. Letting the music pump through her, Lexa skips over to the improvised dance floor in one of the rooms. Lexa thought the rainbow, strobe lights were a nice touch; she stretches her arms, twirling without a care in the world. 

One of the strangers from earlier joins her; giggling and twisting her body with music. Lexa bops her head back and forth, letting the girl do her thing. The girl drops to the floor to do something resembling a twerk, Lexa holds her sides in a fit of laughter, and looks up to see Clarke watching her over the rim of a solo cup. She sticks her tongue out at her; Clarke’s eyebrows raise, eyes widening; freezing the room with her glaciers. Lexa curls her index fingers, indicating that Clarke should come join them. 

To her satisfaction, Clarke promptly obeys and prances over to join them. Lexa takes her hand, twirling Clarke one, two, three times. Laughter spews out from between the girl’s lips; lips covered in some sort of gloss that Lexa wanted to know the flavor of. Clarke’s cheeks have swirls of pink, probably from the booze and dancing Lexa thought.

Seeing Clarke so cheerful and relaxed was a good look, Lexa thought. She got an opportunity to appreciate the way Clarke’s curves were extenuated in those high rise, acid wash jeans and that white crop top. It was a simple outfit but Clarke’s body made it dynamic; Lexa was hypnotized. She couldn’t even be embarrassed for getting caught staring, she shrugs her shoulders with a pathetic grin. 

Clarke closes the distance between them and pulls the collar on Lexa’s shirt bringing her mouth to Lexa’s ear, “I heard you got spanked at beer pong.” 

Lexa leans back, tilting her head with pursed lips before leaning in, her mouth against Clarke’s ear, “you’re about to be.” 

Probably not something friends say but, in this moment, that didn’t matter to Lexa. In a sober state of mind, it was already hard enough to not flirt with this beauty, but Lexa’s inebriated brain wasn’t about to reorient itself. 

***********************************

Chills race up Clarke’s spine as fire burns in her center. She finds bright emeralds piercing through her soul when she dares a glance at Lexa. A hunger dwelling behind those green irises intensifies, and Clarke wants to satisfy that hunger. Blinking slowly, as if not trying to spook the other girl, Clarke steps one foot closer. Her steps are matched. 

“Biiiiitch” 

Both girls snap their heads in the direction of the voice, stepping back to create distance. Clarke immediately misses the absence of Lexa’s body heat. She forces a smile, trying to mask her irritation for the interruption.

“Time for the birthday girl to blow out her candles,” Raven raises her fists, “whoop, whoop!”

Breath escapes through her nostrils in a whooshing fashion. 

“Save that for the flames,” Raven nudges her, having noticed the sigh. 

“Cake!” She feigns excitement. 

This was the bother with being the birthday girl: everyone wants your attention. She tried to not let this dampen her mood; the alcohol swimming in her veins helped with that. This was a fun party and she would have another opportunity to be near Lexa again. 

Cinema is one of Clarke’s favorite ways to pass time; knowing this, Bell and Anya always made sure her parties ended with a movie viewing. On her first birthday with them, they purchased a ridiculously expensive home movie/projection doohickey. This has been a tradition ever since.

Of the remaining guests, everyone found a comfy place amongst sofas, oversized pillows, and fluffy blankets. Because she was the birthday girl, Clarke was given the prime spot in the center facing the screen. She was submerged in blankets, pillows, and the softest sofa cushions. Because this was a tradition, everyone knew to bring casual clothes to change into; basically pajamas because most of them ended up sleeping over. 

The memo apparently didn’t make its way to Lexa, because the girl was standing there in her skinny jeans, scoping out a free space to sit. Clarke leans over to Bellamy, who is sitting next to her, “did you not tell Lexa about the movie portion?” 

He slaps his forehead, “Shit.” He groans, “I forgot this was her first one.”

“No worries,” she stands up to walk over to Lexa, intertwining their hands to lead her to her bedroom; there was no protest from the brunette.

“Kind of hard to watch the movie from here,” Lexa teases, leaning against the door frame of Clarke’s bedroom. Clarke pulls out some sweatpants from one of her drawers along with one of her slouchy tee shirts from her softball days. 

“You can wear these,” She places the garments into Lexa’s arms; Clarke tries to ignore the sparks she feels when their arms touch. 

“I’m fine, Cla—r”

“House rules,” Clarke interrupts her before excusing herself from the room; any longer and she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from taking the clothes off her. 

Lexa reenters the media room five minutes after Clarke left her to change. Clarke couldn’t recognize her own clothes that were draped on the gorgeous woman standing awkwardly in the threshold. Clarke’s shirt was tight on Lexa’s muscular shoulders. The fabric stretched across ribbons of muscle before loosening at the girl’s waist. It should be a crime to look that delicious. 

She waves the girl over, patting the empty space next to her. When she sits, Clarke breathes in notes of musk and sandalwood; Lexa smelled of early morning dew blanketing the forest. Clarke felt safe there.

“Here,” Clarke lifts her blanket, indicating she intended to share. Lexa scoots in closer. 

*****************************

With the buzz wearing off, Lexa was hyper aware of the environment. Namely and more precisely, she was aware of girl next to her. She was trying to focus on the film but occasionally, Clarke would shift around, rubbing their legs and hips together. Her body was betraying her with every touch; goosebumps and chills bouncing all over her skin. 

Into the second act of the film, Clarke shifts so that her head is laying on Lexa’s shoulder. She immediately stiffens; she might have played it off cooler had it not been for the fact her brother was sitting on the opposite side of Clarke. They’ve been getting along so well, Lexa was sure this display would upset him; despite them coming to an agreement. 

“Is this okay,” Clarke asks in a soft voice below Lexa’s ear. 

It may be the remnants of poison steering but Lexa decides to answer by draping an arm around Clarke. The girl nuzzles deeper into Lexa’s side. 

Bellamy no longer exists when Lexa feels a hand sliding down her thigh. Her mouth goes dry just as the hand stops above her knee before traveling back, towards Lexa. Her own hand lands on Clarke’s, directing it towards her inner thigh. Clarke squeezes and Lexa nearly jumps out of her skin; she fills her lungs to the brink with oxygen. 

Lexa shifts, trying to ease the throbbing in her briefs. Clarke seems to take this as an invitation, traveling further inside Lexa’s thighs. Within a catch of her breath, Clarke shifts to straddle her, hips grinding into Lexa’s. She places hands on hips, guiding them further into her rhythmic movements, breathing through waves of quick spasms. 

Remembering they aren’t alone, she looks past Clarke’s golden hair to see if Bellamy was paying attention. She found him, head back over the cushions, snoring. He wasn’t the only one; Lexa looked around the room and there wasn’t a single guest there awake. 

“Take me to bed”

This brings Lexa’s attention back to the girl with blue flames in her eyes.


	12. Let me be your guide

Lexa stumbles behind Clarke, passing over the sleeping guests spread out in a maze amongst the living room floor. She accidently steps on an ankle, “fuck” she hisses. 

“Shhhh…” Giggling, Clarke presses her fingers against Lexa’s lips, “don’t wake them up.”

Lexa takes Clarke’s hands, locking them behind the girl’s back. She steps closer, forcing Clarke’s back against the hallway wall; she looks into her eyes for permission. Clarke presses up on her toes to crash their lips together; Lexa wastes no time exploring the other girl with her tongue; tasting coveted lip gloss. 

“Cherry,” Lexa, smiling, whispers against the other girl’s lips. Clarke tears her hands from Lexa’s grip, twisting her fingers into chestnut hair, pulling until there is no space between their mouths. A gasp escapes Lexa’s throat. 

She presses her pelvis against the other girl, pinning her to the wall; Clarke rolls her hips in response. Lexa brings a hand to the blonde’s throat with just enough pressure to break their kiss. Darkness passes over Clarke’s gaze; Lexa lifts her so that the girl can wrap legs around Lexa’s waist. 

Remembering the location of Clarke’s bedroom, Lexa slides her hands against the walls to guide them; their lips crashing and opening. Lexa manages to close the door behind them, using her heel to close and push the door shut. Clarke jumps down from the taller girl’s hips, ripping off her white crop top before sliding the joggers down her hips. Lexa drinks in the view. She knew Clarke was sexy but damn, an artist couldn’t imagine a more perfect silhouette. Clarke’s curves were a road Lexa wanted to travel for lifetimes. 

Lexa submits to Clarke pulling her onto the bed, rolling to her back to allow the girl to straddle her hips. Raising arms above her head, her borrowed shirt is slipped over her head. Wanting to feel the heat once more, Lexa switches their positioning, pressing her full body weight on top of the writhing blonde beneath. Using her knee, she forces the girl’s legs to open, making room to slide towards the center; causing Clarke to arch, neck back liberating a gasp from her. 

“Fuck,” Clarke breathes, “me.”

Lexa pushes Clarke’s panties to the side, feeling the arousal throbbing there, “you’re so wet for me baby girl.”

Clarke opens her legs further, whimpering and pleading with Lexa to be inside her. Raising to her elbows, Lexa looks down at the girl, wanting the to savor the image of Clarke’s chest heaving as it glistens with sweat. 

She is amazed when she finds her back on the bed, blue fire burning above her. Clarke takes Lexa’s fingers, positioning them so that they slide into her. She slowly rocks back and forth; Lexa thrusts her own pelvis to press her knuckles deeper inside Clarke. 

Clarke cries out in pleasure, Lexa snaps up, using her free hand to stifle the screams. As much as she reveled in Clarke’s bursts of pleasure, she didn’t want this moment interrupted by an awakened visitor, “can you be quiet for me? Just for now?”

Clarke nods, matching the pattern of her bucking hips against Lexa. 

“Good girl,” Lexa slams Clarke to her back, burying her face into the girl’s neck, peppering it with wet kisses as she rides the waves of Clarke’s orgasm. 

****************************************************

A sharp sounds wakes Clarke; she opens an eye to see her company bent over, rubbing their thigh. 

“Wow, wasn’t even going to say goodbye, huh?” Clarke sucks her lips between her teeth, trying to hide her amusement. 

“Ah, well I mean I was going to… you looked,” Lexa’s attention keeps going to her own thigh, “peaceful, snoring.”

“I do not!”

Lexa ignores the retort, picking and rubbing at the redness swelling on her left thigh.

“What is wrong with you?” Clarke wraps a blanket around herself, scooting to the edge of the bed to get a closer look at Lexa. 

“Something bit me,” Lexa’s voice reveals she is less than pleased. 

“Guilty,” Clarke coos as she wraps her hands around Lexa’s waist. 

“Ha, yes but,” Lexa turns so that Clarke can see the tiny hole on her leg, “something uninvited bit me.”

Recognizing the mark, Clarke walks over to her potted cactus, lifting it to show Lexa, “you mean this?” Lexa’s briefs had found a spot next to the plant’s station; looks like the girl unknowingly bumped into it in her haste to skedaddle. 

“Be sure to put some rubbing alcohol on that,” Clarke pats the other’s girl plump booty, “you don’t have to leave, by the way.”

“Um, about that,” She watches Lexa twitch, scratching her hair, as her eyes dart back and forth clocking every exit, “I don’t do serious.”

“Good.” 

Lexa’s head pops up at this. Clarke continues, “neither do I, but when I find a taste I enjoy,” Clarke closes the distance between them, pulling on the taller girl’s shirt, “I prefer to indulge more than once.” She sucks on Lexa’s bottom lip pulling between her teeth, applying a bit a pressure. 

She groans when Lexa releases their lips to whisper, “I don’t hate that idea, but this isn’t one of those things where you say this now but later have all sorts of expectations?” Clarke knew better than to take this personally, she figured Lexa has gone through this exact scenario more than once. Even though they were becoming friends, there was still much that Lexa didn’t know about Clarke; namely that the notion of commitment nearly made her vomit. 

She extends her hand to Lexa, “let’s shake on it,” their hands meet and Lexa tugs Clarke into a chaste kiss.

“First rule is no sleepovers,” Lexa holds up an index finger. 

Clarke mimic her, flicking up a second finger, “second rule: you have to bring me ice cream.” She giggles against Lexa’s chest. 

“I’m serious, Clarke.”

“I’m serious, Clarke.” Clarke parrots. 

“Mockery is not the product of a strong mind.” 

“You need to chill.”

Clarke watches Lexa’s shoulders drop as the girl’s lips split into a lazy smile, “fine, but I seriously have to go.”

Seeing that it was just after midnight, Clarke avoided turning on any lights as she escorts Lexa to the front door. The light from the projector screen cascades over folds of sleeping faces, among those, Bellamy still sewing logs. Blanket still wrapped around her, Clarke takes a quick kiss goodbye from her lover before watching the girl sprint to her vehicle; goosebumps rising up her neck as she anticipates their next meeting.


	13. Mulligan

The latch of a door knob pulls Lexa’s attention from the flood of emails pouring into her work account. She peers over the rim of her spectacles; they had a habit of sliding down the bride of her nose. A few beats pass before she is surprised to find a particular brunette traipsing from Anya’s bedroom suite, wearing the same clothes from the party. Lexa’s eyebrows raise, a twitch in the corner of her mouth forming upwards; that explains why she didn’t see Anya amongst the sleeping bodies at Clarke’s party she deduces. She sits quietly until Anya returns from escorting her company to the driveway.

“Ahem,” She says to her sister, all the while not removing her eyes from the laptop screen.

“Nope.” Anya holds up her hand, expecting it to silence Lexa.

“Oh, we’re talking about this.”

“What are we talking about?” Bellamy interrupts, curiosity sparking in his eyes, as he walks into the kitchen, passing by Anya on his way to the refrigerator. Anya meets him with a piercing stare, holding up both hands, pointing them at both siblings, “We are talking about nothing because there is nothing to discuss.”

“We can agree on something, big sis,” Lexa sets the laptop down before standing to join them in the kitchen, “not much to debate because you clearly fucked Raven last night.” 

“Whoa,” Bellamy’s head snaps between the two sisters, looking for confirmation of the accusation; Anya’s silence tells all.

“Oh my god, hahaha!” Bellamy shakes his head, slapping the counter with both hands. 

“What’s it like?” Lexa pulls on Anya’s braided hair as if she we’re commanding a horse to “giddy up.” Anya silently grabs a ripped bag of twizzlers from the cabinet before walking in the direction of her bedroom, ignoring Lexa’s antics. She leaves her siblings standing alone in the kitchen.

“Do you think it was a one-time thing?” Lexa cocks her head at Bellamy.

“I didn’t know Anya… you know,” His face twists, “did sex.”

“Well, I doubt they were in there painting each other’s toe nails and braiding vagina hair.” Lexa returns to the couch, carefully setting the laptop onto her lap. Bellamy bounces into the opposite side of their sectional, spreading out like a starfish, his feet slapping Lexa’s thigh. 

“Your feet smell awful,” Lexa groans, bringing a hand to pinch her nose. She is too preoccupied with typing up a response to an email to notice the wad of socks rocketing towards her face, “oh god! Bell you’re nasty.”

“I need you all day at the gym tomorrow, is that alright?”

Her heart rate rises, knowing that she could see a certain blonde again, so soon, “Yea, no problem.”

“Excellent!” He claps his hands, grabbing the remote to turn on some Teen Titans Go on Cartoon Network. Lexa hits send on her last email response. A notification on her laptop reveals a new email from woodsg@trikru.com. She reads the email, noting relevant work information and a particular date, “Dad is returning from Italy in a month.”

“So soon?” Bellamy growls. 

Gustus has been traveling for work and play for three months now. This wasn’t out of the ordinary but the distance helped one sibling manage their trauma; Lexa, though, missed him and was looking forward to his arrival.

“Yep, so you need to get your mind right, Bell” She tosses the wadded socks back at him, hitting him in the forehead, “before you get yourself written out of the will.” She doesn’t actually think this would happen but those two had a tendency of saying awful things to one another. 

“Did you have fun at Clarke’s?” 

Lexa’s heart jerks, like a plate of jelly being transported, strapped to the back of a dog. 

She expected for him to pivot the conversation, but man, she wasn’t expecting that subject, this quickly. However, Lexa thought to herself, this was a good opportunity for her to figure out how much her brother knows about last night’s events. Bell was still snoring when she snuck out of Clarke’s bedroom but that didn’t guarantee he was asleep the entire time. 

“It was fun,” She trains her eyes on the cartoon, watching Robin embarrassing himself in front of Starfire, “you and Ayn did a great job.” She turns to look at her brother now, reading his face for any information. The tension in her upper back settles when he nods, accepting her approval, “Thanks! It was my favorite one so far. Everything turned out as we planned.” 

“Looks like you missed your calling. You should quit martial arts and just enslave yourself to party planning.” She teases, knowing Bell’s entire persona depended on his love for Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. His passion for the sport was the sole reason he wasn’t running TriKru; that and the fact he and Gustus were like two male bluebirds fighting over nesting grounds.

“Hey, want to go bouldering?” Lexa decides to ask, she has some lingering tension she wants to relieve and calling Clarke this early was not a viable option.

“Fuck yes,” her brother jumps up from the couch, jogging towards his room to grab his gear she was sure. 

******************************************

“How is Anya? Still able to walk?” Clarke asks while chopping up mushrooms and peppers for her omelet. 

“For now,” Raven snickers, grabbing a sliver of sweet pepper, popping into her mouth for a crisp crunch, “I’ll have a three egg omelet, chef.”

“Coming right up,” Clarke salutes. 

Raven picks up Clarke’s phone, waving it, “your mom called you.”

“I’m aware.”

“Clarke, you can’t ignore her on your birthday.”

“I’m not,” Clarke cracks an egg too forcefully, resulting in shell debris littering her mixing bowl, “Shit.” She tries to spoon out the flakes. 

Clarke and her mother, Abby, moved to town three years ago and their relationship since has been delicate; to put it simply. She knows her mom always has Clarke’s best interest at heart but more often than not, it came across limiting and controlling. The last thing Clarke wants in life is to be tucked away in some box, she always craved an unconventional lifestyle. 

“Pretty flowers,” Raven presses her nose to the colorful petals.

“They are from Finn.” 

Raven jumps away from them as if they were a rattlesnake warning of a strike, “your pussy must be a golden snitch.”

Clarke raises her eyebrows, deepening the creases in her forehead. 

“because he can’t stop chasing it.” Raven’s smile is slanted, as she slaps her knee, snapping her finger. 

“Clever,” Clarke tries to suffocate the spasm of laughter storming in her belly. She refused to reward Raven’s dumb joke. She decides to distract herself by searching her phone for any notifications other than her mother’s missed call; nothing. Well, nothing from her green-eyed goddess. She didn’t expect to hear from the girl this quickly but the thought of it was nice. She would like to know Lexa was equally yearning for her, too. 

“What are your plans for today?”

Clarke looks up from her phone, rushing over to the eggs before they burn, “finishing up that commission piece.”

“The one with all the different greens?”

“Mmmhmmm,” Clarke carefully flips the omelet over. 

“Have you named it yet?”

“Not,” Clarke sticks her tongue out, settling her hand as she slides the omelet into a nearby plate, “quite.” She hands the finished product to Raven, “three egg omelet, my lady.” Raven greedily rips it from her hands, settling down at the table before stabbing it with a fork.

“What are you doing after?” Raven asks between bites, wiping her face with the back of her wrist. 

“Depends, are you sleeping at Anya’s tonight?”

Raven perks up, elbows pressed on the table, “What have you got planned Griffy?”

“Well I was thinking,” Clarke bites her lower lip, “we haven’t done karaoke in a long time.”

Karaoke night on campus is how Raven and Clarke met. Both were freshmen, trying to experience all of the college parties available. A bar two blocks from the dorms hosted a karaoke party every Monday night, which neither girl knew that at the time. Seeing that it was a packed house, they found themselves fighting over who was next in line. It ended up with both of them being escorted out and asked not to come back; both girls were thrilled with having been thrown out of a bar for the first time, the experience bonded them for life.

“Say no more!” Raven stuffs the last remaining bite of the omelet into her mouth, “now call you mother.”

Clarke stepped outside on the deck to allow some privacy while she called her mom.

“About time you called me back, sweetie.” 

“Hi, Mom.” Clarke tries to raise her pitch by talking through a forced smile.

“Are you sick? You sound different?”

Clarke mutes her mic to release a gust of wind from her nostrils, she unmutes her mic, “no, mom, I’m fine.”

“Well, anyway. Will I expect to see you for dinner this evening, I’m cooking your favorites.”

“Can’t, I have plans with Raven.”

“Invite Raven, it doesn’t matter to me. It will be a good opportunity to make sure you both are eating well. Especially you, my dear. Just like your father, get started on a project and lose the wherewithal to feed yourself.”

Clarke’s chest tightens. 

“Mom, I gotta go. Bye, I love you.”

“But Clarke…” Clarke hits the end call button on her phone. She needs a distraction and only knows of one thing that will suffice. She grabs her phone. 

Clarke: Rule number 3: the word ‘mulligan’ means I need you naked in my bed, asap. No questions.

Clarke: Mulligan.


	14. Played for Mosquitoes

Sweat drips onto Lexa’s hands as she pulls her phone from the hiking backpack. As she straightens, she pronates her hand to use the back of her wrist, pushing back stray hairs sticking to her forehead, “whew!” Air pushes its way through her puckered lips.

“Right? It’s hot as,”

“Don’t say balls,” Lexa unlocks her phone.

“I wasn’t!” Bellamy pouts, ripping open the packaging of his trail bar causing the crumbs to spray out like a fountain.

Lexa scrolls though a list of notifications, pausing on Clarke’s name. Normally hearing from a girl this quickly would send Lexa into dread mode; worrying about clingers and expectations. However, this time, she found herself feeling a prickling feeling in her fingers and a flurry of waves in her stomach. The flurries become somersaults once she reads the content of the message.

Her gaze travels to the top, right corner of her phone, “5 pm.” She looks back at the sent stamp of Clarke’s message, “9am.”

She wondered if the invitation was still open.

Lexa: Does it count as ‘asap’ if I’m just now seeing this?

“Okay that granola was not satisfying.” This causes Lexa to slide her phone back into its spot in her bag.

“I tried to tell you,” she tosses him an extra bar she packed, “eat this.” Lexa made her own bars with limited ingredients, the texture would remind you of raisins or Lara bars if you’ve had them. Bellamy eyes the bar suspiciously before carefully taking a bite, “mhmmmm.” He praises after filling his mouth with another, larger bite.

She was tempted to pull her phone out again, to check for a response but knew it wouldn’t matter; she and Bell still had to hike an hour back to their vehicles. Suddenly feeling impatient, she pats him on the back, “you can eat and walk at the same time, let’s go.”

***************************

An hour into dinner and Clarke was already searching for ways to leave early. Escaping wasn’t going to be easy. Abby was not one to acknowledge that someone may have other plans; she fully intended to keep Clarke’s company as long as she pleased. She feels a vibration in her pocket, but has to ignore it. She knows it’s her phone but Abby will have a meltdown if Clarke took her phone out at the dinner table. Jesus, how old is she? Twelve? Clarke always felt like a pubescent adolescent around her mom, despite being twenty-nine years old.

“Oh my god, Ms. Griffy this casserole is making my mouth orgasm!” Raven shouts.

“Rav—e” Clarke stops when her mother’s hand comes up in a halting motion.

“Raven, you can call me Abby.” She grins before adding, “I’m glad someone appreciates my cooking.”

Clarke rolls her eyes; she was constantly amazed by how her mother could make anything petty. The casserole was delicious but she wouldn’t classify it in the realm of orgasms; Lexa raised the bar on that one, “not sure what kind of sex you and Anya are having but this is hardly orgasmic.” Abby chokes on her bite, “Clarke!”

Clarke takes this opportunity to check the notification that buzzed through her phone. She was pleased to see Lexa’s response; since she didn’t hear back after some time, Clarke worried that she overstepped. Based on the reply, she figured it was safe to bet that Lexa was up for the game.

Clarke: Technically, no.

Clarke:… but the offer has expired, somewhat

Her decline wasn’t out of spite. She just didn’t want to bail on her plans with Raven for a booty-call; no matter how delicious it would be.

*******************************************

“Hmmm,” Lexa hums at Clarke’s response. She steps back from the vehicle so that Bellamy can shut the hatch before dropping her phone into her pocket.

“What?”

She looks at Bellamy, now realizing her response was loud enough to hear, “Work stuff.” She mutters.

“Ew, speaking of.”

Lexa groans, shutting the passenger door, “what do you want?”

“Do you think you could help me interview some black belts for the teaching position?”

“You mean my position?” Lexa, relieved it wasn’t TriKru related business, brings her hand to her chest, feigning offense, “am I fired already, Mr. Woods?” She knew this was temporary but she liked messing with her older brother.

“I mean if you want—th”

She holds up her hand, gently shaking her head, “I’ll help you interview. Do you already have candidates?”

“Uh, not exactly.”

“How do people know to apply?”

“Um,” Bellamy scratches the back of his head, removing strands of hair from his man-bun.

“You haven’t formally posted the position have you?” She turns in her seat, facing him directly. He smiles at her for a brief moment before returning his attention to the road.

“You want me to post it.” He gives her another smile. She tilts her neck to one side, “crack” then to the other, “pop, crack.” Chills run down her spine after popping the tension building up in her neck.

“Fine, but you owe me big time.”

“You already have the card!”

“I get two uses on it then!”

“Whatever, fine. I appreciate the help, Lex. You know I suck with technology.”

“You suck at a lot of things, Bell.” She laughs.

They had a short ride back to the house. Once inside, Lexa stows away to her bedroom to type her response to Clarke. She didn’t want to risk Bellamy asking her questions or looking over to see Clarke’s name pop on the phone. She still wasn’t sure how he will react once he learns that Lexa and Clarke crossed that friend boundary. She thought about her response; not wanting to insinuate anything further than a casual hookup. Meeting up on back to back nights was not something Lexa allowed herself to do; so maybe it was good thing she read the message too late, she thought to herself.

Lexa: another time?

She was pleased to see the ellipses forming, indicating that Clarke was already typing a response. Despite her boundaries, Lexa couldn’t help but feel giddy when having the girl’s attention.

Clarke: Definitely :*

*****************************************

Though she wanted to press real lips against Lexa’s, Clarke settled with the kissy face emoji.

“Are you ready?” Raven leans against Clarke’s doorframe.

“Almost,” Clarke grabs a stiletto from underneath the bed; she stands, twisting her torso to scan the room for the missing mate.

“Ah, ha!” She cries out and hops over to its hiding place, liberating it from the mound of dirty (or were they clean?) clothes on the floor. Clarke hated laundry with a passion; she loved clean clothes but hated that the process was an all-day event of gathering, washing, drying, folding, and putting away. She typically kept a system with her laundry piles but this one seems to have started organically, separate from the rest; she was unsure of the status and not in the mood to do an armpit test.

“You look hot,” Raven clicks.

“I always look hot,” Clarke sticks her tongue out between her teeth, wiggling it back and forth.

“Oh hush,” Raven slaps Clarke’s ass, “did you end up inviting Bell out?”

Clarke checks her lipstick to ensure there were no stray marks out of place, “yea but he said he was tired from rock climbing all day.”

“I’ll never understand the fascination with climbing rocks,” Raven shakes her head.

Nodding Clarke agrees, “Same.”

Clarke opens her Lyft app to secure a ride to the bar; she could tell this was a let-it-fly kind of night.

Once at the bar, Raven makes a beeline for drinks, ordering two shots for the both of them, “dark or clear?” She shouts over the music and chatter. “Vodka,” Clarke throws two thumbs up.

They slap the table after each throw back, Clarke grits her teeth; those first two are always the most difficult.

“What song are you doing tonight,” Raven shimmies her shoulders, lightly tapping Clarke’s. Clarke breaks eye contact with a pretty boy from across the room, “Sheryl Crow’s, If it Makes You Happy.”

“Oh shit,” Raven shakes her hands as if she just burned them on a hot stove eye, “you’re in a mood.”

Clarke catches the stranger’s gaze once more, “we’ll see.”

Clarke loved singing all sorts of genres but something about Sheryl’s register felt closer to Clarke’s own. Her song choice was more rhythmic but it set off a groove that sparked Clarke’s carefree nature; she felt gritty.

“I’m definitely feeling The Killers tonight,” Raven nurses her Jack and coke with her back pressed against the bar.

“Oh, shit, I may join on one of those!” Clarke orders herself a vodka cran, “double shot, please.” She flashes her signature wink at the bartender. She doesn’t miss the bartender’s tongue slowly grazing their bottom lip; between the hot guy on the floor or this tall drink of a woman bartender, Clarke was expecting this night to end with a bang. No pun intended.


	15. Physical

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Clarke sings as she stumbles over piles of clothes.

“Everything okay?” Raven shouts from the kitchen.

Clarke, on her hands and knees now, crawling around the floor using her hands to feel for her clothes, pops her head up, “Totally.”

Thanks to the light peeking through the blinds her mother purchased for her, she spots her bra near a desk chair. She always hated the light blocking curtains; Clarke liked waking with the sun. Abby had the stupid things installed and Clarke wasn’t willing to give the energy to remove them.

Clarke fumbles to get her sports bra over her shoulders, pressing her boobs down like deflated balloons. She spots a glimpse of herself in the mirror, “sexy.”

Now that the girls are secured, Clarke had to find her rash guards. In the dimly lit room, all Clarke can make out are mounds and mounds of clothes. She really needed to get a handle on this laundry situation she thinks to herself.

A flood of light enters the room, “maybe this will help.”

Clarke hisses at Raven like a vampire being exposed to a crucifix.

“You look scared,” Raven casually offers.

“I’m going to be late for training,” Clarke blurts as she squeezes past Raven in the doorframe to search the utility room for her clean gi suit.

Clarke forgot that Lexa was teaching the early class; otherwise she would have never suggested that last round of drinks with Raven, but that cute guy from the bar was buying... Of course, it was obvious he was expecting something in return. Unfortunate for him, Clarke didn’t like that kind of reciprocity so he went home without Clarke’s company.

“Uh oh, don’t want to be late for your dry humping session with baby woods!” Raven yells to Clarke as the girl runs down the hallway.

Clarke covers her ears, recognizing that she has a splitting headache starting at the base of her skull, fully wrapping around her forehead, “can you say that a little louder, banshee?”

“Here,” Raven shoves a glass of water with what Clarke hoped was asprin fizzing at the bottom. She drinks all of it.

“There is a random bottle of grape pedialyte in the fridge,” Raven shrugs, “those electrolytes may be useful right now.”

Nodding, Clarke walks directly into the kitchen to retrieve the Holy Grail, “how did this even get here?” She turns the bottle in her hand, reading the ingredients.

“Actually, I think your girl brought it to the party.”

Clarke looks up from the nutrition label, “she isn’t my girl.”

“Mhmm… Right.”

Clarke grins, knowing that there isn’t any point in denying it, “she must have foresight because my life is saved.”

****************************************

Class is scheduled to start in five minutes. Lexa looked around the room, hoping to see that Clarke managed to sneak in without her knowing. Her chest starts to tighten when she confirms that the girl has not shown up; this was uncharacteristic of Clarke. After training Clarke for several weeks, Lexa noticed the girl always showed up fifteen minutes early. Maybe Clarke is regretting the things that have transpired and now wants to avoid Lexa at all costs; the thought made a sharp ping in her tightening chest.

“Made it!”

Lexa looks up to see Clarke rushing into the room, kicking her sliders off so that she is barefoot before stepping onto the mat. She noticed the girl’s hair was not in their usual tight, double braids but rather is being restrained by a loose bun on top of the head. Golden, stray hairs fall into the girl’s eyes and Lexa resists the urge to push them back into place; she clenches her hand to hold it still, as her chest loosens its restraint.

“I was worried we wouldn’t be seeing you today, Clarke.” Lexa tries to keep her tone neutral and professional; it had nothing to do with not wanting Clarke to see how relived she was to have her there. Lexa will keep telling herself that.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” Clarke teases, smacking the tongue of Lexa’s gi belt before finding her spot on the mats, “thanks for the juice!” she shouts over her shoulder. Lexa’s brows furrow, she had no idea what juice the blonde was talking about, “at your service!” She plays it off.

Lexa instructs the class to start their laps around the room; having them drop to do twenty pushups every three laps. She wanted to make sure everyone was warmed up and limber before tackling the movements she had planned to teach. The majority of the students are white belts, but after spending this time with them, Lexa feels they are ready for more advanced training; she made sure to run this by Bellamy for his approval. She was especially impressed by Clarke’s progress in the short amount of time. The girl was a natural athlete but it takes more than strength to be successful in Jiu Jitsu; it requires strategy and mental fortitude. Clarke seemed to inhabit the spirit of training very easily; Lexa enjoyed watching how quickly the girl could process and react to her environment, nearly countering every attack.

“Alright!” Lexa claps, “partner up, please!”

“Howdy doo,” Clarke adds a lilt to her accent, tipping her imaginary hat at Lexa, “Partner.”

Lexa presses her lips together but not before all corners of her mouth reach skyward as she tries to stifle the giggles.

“You can’t pick the instructor,” Lexa pulls on Clarke’s lapels of her gi suit, slightly forcing the girl to step towards her before sweeping her off balance, pinning her to the mat, “because you’ll certainly lose,” she purrs into Clarke’s ears. As she attempts to pull away, Clarke pulls down, pinning their chests together, “this is cheating,” she whispers into Lexa’s ear.

Distracted by their contact, Lexa responds too slowly to Clarke arching her back, swinging her right leg underneath Lexa’s arm. Clarke turns to trap Lexa’s shoulder, forcing Lexa’s face to the ground. It was a beautiful execution of the omoplata sweep but unfortunately for Clarke, Lexa had ways of escaping. First, Lexa tries to continue rolling forward but Clarke grabs her lapel belt. Next, Lexa knows she has to create space between Clarke’s hips and her own shoulder (which was currently locked up by Clarke’s right leg). Lex gets into the fetal position, digging her left knee into Clarke’s hip, pressing until she forces the lock to unclasp.

Once free from the clasp, Lexa turns to mount Clarke. Lexa worked quickly, managing to bypass the unexperienced opponent’s guard, she forces one of Clarke’s arms overhead. The side of her face now pressed against Clarke’s, she continues maneuvering the girl into a kimura.

“I like how rough you’re being,” Clarke’s raspy voice radiates throughout Lexa’s core.

“You have no idea,” Lexa smirks before tightening enough to make the girl tap.

Their performance lands them applause from the class that was now fully invested in their roll. Lexa steps to the side, bowing to Clarke, indicating she deserved the cheers. Lexa hasn’t ever experienced being taken off guard during a roll since she was a white belt; it was nice to relive that thrill.

However, right now, another thrill was taking control of Lexa.

“Class is dismissed!” Lexa shouts to the attendees while maintaining eye contact with her blue-eyed temptress.

******************************************

“Ah,” Clarke exhales and reaches out to Lexa with both arms to keep from slipping, “hold on, Lex, I can’t run in sliders.” She giggles.

Lexa, having Clarke’s wrist, pulling the girl through the house, pauses to pick her up and carry her rest of the way.

“I want you now,” Lexa manages before the blonde wraps her arms around her neck, pulling Lexa into a deep kiss where Clarke’s tongue firmly presses against Lexa’s. She was tempted to drop down into the hallway to have Clarke there but knew they were only a few more steps from her room. They waste no time removing clothes once entering the privacy of Lexa’s bedroom.

Lexa suggested her place because she knew Bell would be with their mother most of the day, while Anya had to work a double at the hospital.

“That feels so good,” Clarke whimpers as Lexa massages the girl’s center with her tongue. She pauses, not quite ready to relieve the girl’s pressure. She is thrilled by the girl’s response to switch their positions; Lexa liked how Clarke didn’t wait for Lexa to read her mind; this was the kind of girl that knew what she wanted and didn’t settle for less. Knowing this type of woman wanted Lexa was more than flattering.

A gasp escapes Lexa’s lips when Clarke presses a tongue against her clit, before slowly pushing a finger deep inside Lexa. She bucks from the pleasure, opening to give Clarke more room to settle between her thighs. Sweat lubricates the hand traveling, pressing firmly, against Lexa’s abdomen towards her breasts. Clarke greedily takes one in her hand as she slowly rises up to put it into her mouth, without removing her knuckles from inside Lexa. Clarke then removes her lips from Lexa’s nipple to press hungry kisses against Lexa’s lips as she rhythmically pumps her hips and fingers. Lexa moans into the girl above her as the orgasm releases; after, she immediately flips Clarke over to finish what she started.

**********************************

She tries to settle her breathing, having just been ravished by the brunette queen lying next to her; their chests rising and falling in unison. Clarke rolls so that she is tucked into the girl’s side, resting her head on Lexa's chest; she relaxes in the warmth she finds there. Noticing hints of sandalwood, Clarke wondered if Lexa secretly slept outside in the woods.

For a moment, Clarke watches Lexa picking at a callous on her palms. She reaches out to hold it, turning it so she can observe the hands that could bring her to such pleasure. They were soft but strong, having evidence of hard work sprinkled about, across her fingers and palms; Clarke uses her own index finger to trace each one them.

“That tickles,” Lexa sputters out giggles before pulling her hand away from Clarke’s. The girl next to her shifts so that they lie there face to face, mere inches apart. Clarke watches Lexa bring a hand to her face, slowly tracing the bridge of Clarke’s nose; she can feel the energy charging between them.

“Tell me something personal about you,” Clarke decides.

“I’m fantastic in bed.”

“Besides that,” Clarke pokes Lexa’s forehead; wrinkles form at the touch.

“I don’t offer up information,” Clarke begins to pout but Lexa continues, “so you have to ask something specific.”

“Did you really steal the company from Bellamy?”

Lexa sits up on her elbows, ripping the warmth from Clarke, “where did you hear that?” Clarke notices the hitch in Lexa’s voice. She knew better to ask something like that but ever since reading the drama, Clarke wanted to know if Lexa was that person the article suggested.

“New York Times.”

Lexa pinches the bridge of her nose, a smile cracks on her face and she settles on her back, lying next to Clarke once more, “You don’t believe everything you read, do you?”

Clarke shakes her head, “which is why I’m asking you directly.”

“Reading up on me, huh?”

“You’re supposed to answer my question first?”

“Didn’t know there were rules,” Lexa pokes her tongue out at Clarke.

“I did not steal the company from Bellamy.”

Lexa explains how Bellamy resisted anything Gustus tried to give or teach him, whereas Lexa accepted any crumb of knowledge or advice their father offered. What Bellamy saw as grooming, Lexa interpreted as power and strength; she understood that he had insight through experience and she could avoid mishaps by following certain rules. This helped her rise through ranks very quickly; she was the perfect student.

“Our father offered the position to me and I accepted it, knowing Bell would want it this way.” Lexa scratches her eyebrow, “but other TriKru employees didn’t know that. It looked bad to be honest; Bell wasn’t even present for the promotion.”

“Why?”

“Actually, he was signing papers to lease the gym.”

“Wow,” Clarke lies back, staring up at the ceiling, “So how come the article is so scathing? There were quotes from your siblings…something about ‘of course Lexa would do this.’”

“Taken out of context,” Lexa rolls to elbows, pressing up, “everyone in the family knew I was perfect for the position. The author of the article and I had…well um… a thing.” Lexa raises her eyebrows before snickering.

Clarke rips the pillow out from beneath the girl and slaps her overhead with it, “of course! I should have known.” Lexa screams in delight, rolling on top of Clarke to pin her arms down from thrashing.

“Lexa?” a female voice shouts up the stairs.

“sohdfklsdf,” Lexa mumbles when Clarke jerks her head up, popping Lexa in the mouth, busting her lower lip.

“Sorry,” Clarke whispers, kissing the blood on the swelling, lower lip.

****************************

“Yo, Lexa? You up there?!”

“It’s Anya,” Lexa quickly spurts to Clarke before hopping off the girl. Anya was not supposed to come home this early; Lexa wondered what happened with the shift at the hospital. She wasn’t ready for her siblings to find out about her trysts with Clarke, but how was she going to explain this? Lexa looked at her window. No, no she wasn’t about to have Clarke scale the house… but Lexa does have some top rope gear in her bedroom to help lower… NO.

“Is it a big deal if she finds me here?” Clarke asks as she slides her sweatpants over her hips. Lexa takes a deep breath, trying not to lose focus from seeing Clarke in nothing but sweats, breasts out. She swallows the desire building in her throat.

“I um,” Lexa blinks her eyes, “would like to keep this,” Lexa swirls her fingers between she and Clarke, “between us.”

Clarke raises a single eyebrow, creasing one side of her mouth, “then what do you suggest we say to her?”

“Nothing,” Lexa hands Clarke a shirt, “just act like you always do when over here. You basically live her, too, so she shouldn’t be surprised,” Lexa points to the restroom down the hallway, “come out of there in five?”

“This is a lot of work,” Clarke flicks Lexa on the nose.

“I appreciate you,” Lexa folds her hands together as if praying to a deity before bowing to Clarke.

Lexa skips down the stairs, nearly smacking into Anya, whom has already made their way up the stairs, “hey, sis!”


	16. Somewhere In Between

“Is Clarke here,” Anya points her thumb over her shoulder, “her truck is parked outside.”

“Yea, she stopped by after practice,” Lexa shuffles around Anya to enter the living room, throwing herself into the couch cushions; she hoped her nonchalance would throw Anya off any suspicion. Anya follows her. 

“Why?”

“Why does she ever come by?” Lexa shuffles the question back to Anya like a game of ping pong. 

Anya’s mouth turns down as her eyebrows raise, “good point.” She shrugs.

“What happened to your mouth?” Anya indicates by touching her own lip in the same place Lexa’s cut resided. 

“Oh,” Lexa touches the busted spot on her lip with her finger, feeling the dried blood on her lip, “not sure.”

“Twizzler?” Anya shoves the red, bendy stick of sugar in Lexa’s face. Lexa watches it bounce back and forth before her eyes, a grimace grows on her face, “ew, no thanks.”

“I’d love one!” Clarke shouts from behind Lexa, leaning overhead on the back of the couch, pulling the twizzler from Anya’s hands. Lexa turns around in time to watch the blonde rip a bite of it, twisting it so that it is a clean cut. Anya looks horrified.

“Remind me to never have my fingers near your mouth,” Anya clutches her bag of red 40 and corn syrup snacks. A sputtering of giggles escapes Clarke as she climbs over the couch to settle into a spot next to Anya. Since when does Anya snuggle, Lexa wonders to herself. Her sister was never one for intimacy of any sort; therefore seeing her allow Clarke to cuddle was foreign. 

“What brings you here, today?” Anya shifts so she is looking directly at the girl next to her. 

“Was going to see if Bell was up for seeing a matinee,” Clarke plucked another twizzler from Anya’s bag and bit off a huge bite.

“You can’t text him?”

Lexa starts to shift in her spot. Her sister was very observant and was clearly onto them.

“I never assume Bell has his phone on him,” Clarke laughs. Anya joins her, “he is the worst!”

At the sound of their joined laughter, Lexa starts to relax, first in her neck then down to the center of her back. She leans back into the couch cushions, continuing to observe her sister and… whatever Clarke was to her chat. If Lexa were being honest, she would admit that seeing how close the two are made her feel isolated. She wondered why her siblings would choose to exclude her from Clarke and vice versa; it wasn’t like them to do that.

“Lex told me that he would be with your mom all day so I was getting ready to leave when you showed up,” Clarke explains. 

Damn, this girl was good; Lexa isn’t sure she could have given such a smooth, believable explanation.

“You don’t have to leave,” Anya stands up, walking over to her gaming console to start up her next mission.

While Anya is distracted with unplugging her charging controller, Clarke and Lexa share a glance between themselves. Clarke mouths, ‘I should go,’ to Lexa and mimics running out the door with her hands. Lexa shrugs and supinates her wrists, ‘up to you’ she mouths back.

“Eh, I really want to watch a movie and I know you’re in wind-down mode,” Clarke stands up, “see you guys later!” She practically sprints from the house. 

“Oh, Clarke!” Anya shouts.

Clarke pauses mid-jog, then turns to face her, “hmm?”

“Be sure to clean off that dried blood on your lip.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Lexa nearly chokes on her own spit. There was no question about it; Anya definitely knew something went down. 

*************************************************

“Want to tell me what is really going on,” Anya hisses once the door latches shut behind Clarke.

Lexa strongly considered lying through her teeth but there was no way she could pass off both of them having blood on their lips as a coincidence. Well… she could say something happened during Jiu Jitsu training but Lexa knew Anya would see through that, too. Damnit, why did Anya have to come home early?

“What happened to your double shift?”

“They mistakenly put me on the schedule,” Anya answers immediately, “sorry for the inconvenience.”

Lexa slumps her shoulders. 

“We hooked up,” Lexa pulls her own lips between her teeth, slightly dipping her head down.

Anya leans forward onto her own hands, rubbing her face and eyes, “why, Lex?”

“Well—“

“Actually, I don’t need to know that,” Anya interrupts. 

“We’re both grown women and it is consensual,” Lexa works to keep her tone neutral; she is fighting the urge to get defensive and yell.

“I asked you not to, Lex. You can have any girl you want but no—“

“Stop.” Lexa stands up so that she is peering over her sister, “Bell doesn’t get to claim her and I have already talked to him about that.”

Lexa notices the confusion and hurt cross Anya’s face, “See, it doesn’t feel good when siblings keep things secret, huh?”

A stammering gust bursts from Anya’s nostrils, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“You didn’t tell me about Clarke! Whom apparently…” Lexa waves her hands about, “is your and Bell’s best friend?!”

Anya’s hard demeanor softens, and for a moment, Lexa can see regret there. 

“Even more so, you didn’t tell her I even existed! What the actual fuck, Anya?!” Lexa was shouting at this point, her voice cracking, betraying her emotions.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology wasn’t expected but it still wasn’t enough to satisfy the hurt Lexa was experiencing. She needed to know why, to understand, why her siblings would do this. Growing up, she always struggled with measuring up to them and their accomplishments: Bellamy’s athletic skills and Anya’s intelligence. She worried herself with not being cool enough or good enough to hang out with them or be wanted by them; despite how close she and Anya were. These feelings dwelled deep within the caverns of Lexa’s mind. 

“No, I need more than that.”

“Bell and I wanted something for ourselves.”

Lexa blinks. Okay, now she was really confused. 

Anya continues, “You get everything, Lexa. You’re just like dad: athletic, smart, good looking, tall…” Anya smirks. Lexa knows her sister is bitter about being the short one of the family. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Lexa says just above a whisper as she sits down next to her sister, their arms barely touching.

“I guess nothing other than insecurities on mine and Bell’s part. You’ve always been good at everything and that isn’t a bad thing. Okay?” Anya turns to search Lexa’s eyes. Lexa can feel her sister’s sincerity as she carefully chooses her words, “But it made us feel inadequate. You got the charm, the whit, the business,” Anya places a finger on Lexa’s lips to shush her, “Yes I know neither one of us wanted it but that isn’t my point. My point, which I hoped would be brief but here we are, is that Clarke was the first thing that came into our lives that Bell and I could have without you taking it. We knew if she met you that you would become her favorite and we knew you would be attracted to her.”

Lexa swallows as if she were ingesting peanut butter, hot tears swelling in her eyes, “I never intentionally take things, Anya.”

“Oh, Lex,” Anya pulls Lexa into a hug, “We know that. We don’t blame you for any of it. Like I said,” she rubs Lexa’s back, “we were being selfish and didn’t consider your feelings.” 

“Looks like we weren’t wrong though,” Anya playfully jabs Lexa’s ribs with her index finger. 

Lexa wasn’t ready to return the subject on Clarke; she wanted Anya to understand her perspective. 

“You say this like you and Bell are not those things, too. My whole life I lived up to the expectations and standards you and Bell made. I just wanted to measure up and make an impact, too. I never realized that I could overshadow you both.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Anya laughs, “no one said you over shadowed us!” 

They both laugh. 

“It was a silly reason, Lexa. Again, I’m sorry we hurt you. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“I accept your apology,” Lexa pulls Anya into a bear hug. Anya groans.

“So is it a one-time thing?”

“Not really,” Lexa tries not to smile when her sister’s eyebrow shoots up, “it’s nothing serious but we agreed to keep it casual.”

“And Bell is cool with it?”

“Uh, well, he doesn’t know.”

Anya creases her forehead, burrowing her eyebrows, “You said you talked to him about it.”

Lexa holds up her hand, “I said I talked to him about not being able to claim Clarke.”

“Oh, lord Lexa.”

“Lexa is fine,” she grins when Anya slaps her arm. 

“Keep this stuff about Clarke between us, ok?”

Anya shakes her head, “Nope, I’ve already gotten into trouble for keeping secrets.”

“Fine, if he asks, don’t lie about it but don’t tell him just to tell him, deal?”

“I can work with that. I don’t like talking about personal things anyway.”

“Like how you’re sleeping with Raven?”

Anya grabs her headphones, slipping them over her ears before disappearing into the mission; this conversation was officially over. Lexa takes out her phone.

Lexa: Anya knows 

Clarke: I’m cool with that

Clarke’s response indicated to Lexa that the girl was not nearly as concerned about the siblings’ reactions to this news. Maybe Lexa was projecting her own fears a little too heavily?


	17. Espresso feelings

“Mmmm…” Clarke hums as the smoky and herbal notes envelope her taste buds; the warmth of the beverage hugging her, keeping her close, “I love coffee.”

Bellamy rips open a packet of sugar, dumping the contents into his coffee, “hmm.” 

Clarke and Bellamy liked to meet up occasionally through the week and have coffee at the local spot just a block from their street. It was a quaint little shop with the perfect book corner, tucked away like a secret. Clarke loved that the books there looked worn and had a bundle of secrets all on their own. Occasionally, she would pick one at random and spend an hour or longer reading; it felt like time would pause just for her.

“Hurry up and drink that,” She teases. 

Bellamy is always terrible company before he has consumed at least two cups of coffee. The drink sitting before him now is drink number two; Clarke was feeling impatient, wanting her friend to be present for quality conversation.

“It’s too hot,” he grumbles. 

Clarke reaches out, pulling the cup towards her; she gently blows on the liquid, absolving it of its heat. 

“Here,” she pushes it back to its place in front of her friend, “that should help.”

Bellamy brings the cup to his lips. Clarke watches his shoulders relax as he gulps a few sips of the caffeinated nectar, “It’s perfect, thank you!” He grins at her.

Clarke pulls out a think book, “Matilda.” She smiles at the yellow cover with a cartoon of a young girl sitting among piles of books. Matilda was a story Clarke enjoyed growing up and often related to the young protagonist; they were both outcasts. Clarke flips through the pages, reading a few passages here and about as she waited for Bellamy to finish his coffee. 

“I watched the movie, I think.” He pulls the book out of Clarke’s hands, flipping it over to look at the summary, “Yep, I remember the chocolate cake.” At the mention of food, Clarke’s stomach made itself known. 

“I’m going to grab us some breakfast sandwiches,” She pushes away from the table. Bellamy shuffles to pull out his wallet but Clarke halts him with her hand.

“My treat,” she reassures him. 

Bellamy and Anya both struggled with letting Clarke pay for things. She understood that money wasn’t an object for them, but she was a successful woman herself; treating her friends was not going to set her back. 

As Clarke gathers some napkins for their order, a blonde barista approaches her, “are you two dating?” The stranger indicates to Bellamy. 

“No,” Clarke grins and shakes her head, “go for it.” She winks at the girl. Red rushes to the blonde’s cheeks and she quickly pulls out a pin to write her number down on the plastic bag of one of the sandwiches.

“I’m the greatest wing-woman of all time,” Clarke says as she tosses the sandwiched filled bag to Bellamy. He slightly fumbles but manages to recover, catching it and turning it to see the number. 

“It’s the blonde,” she adds. 

Bellamy casually looks over his shoulder to give the barista a courtesy nod.

“When are you going to call her?” Clarke takes a massive bite of her sandwich, filing her cheeks with egg, cheese, and bacon.

“I don’t know,” He shrugs, “not sure I will.”

Clarke wasn’t surprised. Bellamy being single had nothing to do with his ability to get girls; it had everything to do with him not trying to. Clarke has only seen him show interest in one girl and even that was short-lived. 

“Aren’t you lonely?” She asks him. 

“How can I be?” He laughs, “I live with my two sisters and if I’m not there, I’m at the gym, and if I’m not there…I’m with you.”

“It’s not the same!” Clarke pokes him. 

“Eh,” He waves her off, “what about you? You’ve seemed exceptionally cheerful lately.”

What a great question, Clarke thinks to herself. After seven or eight Mulligans, Clarke and Lexa have seen quite a bit of one another. Granted, it was never anything more than that but Clarke thoroughly enjoyed her time with the brunette. Clarke knew that Anya was aware of things, but she was certain Bellamy still did not know. She didn’t like keeping this from her friend but she wanted to respect Lexa’s wishes. Clarke was sure Lexa had her reasons for not wanting to tell Bell about this. 

“I’m seeing someone but it isn’t serious or anything like that,” She decides not to lie but rather withhold some information. A shadow crosses his face but he quickly covers it with a smile, leaning forward onto the table with both elbows. 

“Do I know them?” 

“I’ve been asked to keep things private,” She brings her fingers to her mouth in a twisting motion as if turning a lock and key. 

“Oh my god , are they married?!” He shouts as he slaps the table, laughing. 

Clarke mouths the word sorry to the people sitting near them, now slanting their eyes at the pair. 

“Bell, stop trying to guess,” she reaches forward, poking him on the forehead, “It is a private thing between that person and me.”

“But—” 

“Please respect that,” she shushes him by stuffing his sandwich into this mouth.

“mslksd” he mumbles as crumbs fall to his lap.

“Exactly,” she laughs, handing him a napkin.

“Okay, okay,” He manages after swallowing, then his face brightens and his smile splits as if remembering something incredible, “Hey, what are you doing this morning after coffee?”

Initially Clarke planned to travel around to some nearby warehouses to search for some inspiration for some new projects. After finishing her green piece, she was ready for something new; maybe something more steampunk or apocalyptic. She hoped traveling around to the worn down industrial parts of town, she would find the right inspiration. But if she were being honest, she didn’t feel inspired to be inspired.

“Depends…” She bites on the inside of her lip, “what are you thinking?”

He claps his hands together, “Go rock climbing with me!”

“Uh, hell no.” 

This isn’t the first time Bellamy has asked Clarke to go climbing; she turns down the offer every time. She wondered what possessed him to think this time would be any different.

“Oh c’mon,” He begs, putting his hands together as if pleading for his life, “Lex and Anya are going, too.”

“Anya is going?” 

One thing Clarke and Anya had in common was that climbing around on some rocks was not their thing. 

“Yea,” the pitch in his voice jumps up an octave, “we’re going to one of our parent’s properties. It has this sick waterfall next to where Lex and I practice lead climbing.”

The thought of seeing Lexa scale rock walls definitely perked Clarke’s interest. She wondered if Lexa would be cool with her joining; they were supposed to keep things casual after all. However, Clarke was attracted to the idea of seeing Lexa in a different element. What could it hurt? It wasn’t like Clarke wasn’t involved with other activities with the three of them: dinner and game nights. 

“Do I have to climb?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” Bellamy’s giddiness resembled a toddler awaiting their turn on the waterslide, “You can swim with Anya.”

“Okay,” Clarke’s lip twitches to one side, “I can do that.”

*******************************************

“So what time am I picking you up?” Lexa paces the hallway, phone glued to her ear. Anya weaves between her, randomly handing Lexa things. Lexa looks down at the pool noodle now in her left hand; she drops it. 

“Hey!”

Lexa turns to Anya, shushing her as she points to her phone. 

“Uh huh, but that doesn’t tell me when you need me at the airport.” Lexa rushes down the stairs with Anya on her heels. 

“Let me talk to him,” Anya pulls on Lexa’s arms trying to get the phone. A mixture of giggles and frustration bubbles throughout Lexa’s belly as she presses against Anya’s forehead, holding her arm’s length from her. Lexa wondered how two grown women could find themselves behaving this way.

“Would you stop?” Lexa glares at her sister, “No, dad not you. Ayn is bein— huh? Yea, fine,” Lexa hands the phone to Anya, “here.”

Lexa may be a Gustus double but her sister Anya was more of the daddy’s girl. Lexa enjoyed their father very much but she preferred to treat him as a mentor and confidant; he made her feel at ease and more of a companion rather than his offspring.

“Perfect!”

Lexa overhears Anya wrapping up the conversation with their father. 

“What did he say?” Lexa takes her phone back, slipping it into her back pocket. 

“He is going to have his driver pick him up from the airport. I saved you a trip,” Anya smirks. 

Lexa was surprised he agreed; Gustus had a thing about being picked up by family on his arrivals. It had something to do with a silly superstition. 

“Excellent! Don’t know how you managed that but I appreciate you, sis!” Lexa grabs Anya and hoists her into the air. 

“This is never fun for me,” Anya growls from her position over Lexa’s shoulders. 

Lexa sits her down, not wanting the beast to erupt; she pats Anya on the head before her hand is swatted away. Lexa would ever be grateful to the gods for making her taller than her own big sister. 

“Do you have all of your swimming gear ready?”

“Almost,” Anya dives into the supply closet, “I need to get some extra noodles and floats.”

“Why,” Lexa looks around, already counting enough items for her two siblings and her, “we have enough.”

“Nope,” Anya tosses some floats into the hallway, “Clarke is joining.”

Lexa’s heart tightens in her chest, “Clarke climbs?”

“Definitely not, but she loves to swim.”

Now Lexa’s mouth is going dry. Sure, she has seen all of Clarke’s body, more than once, but something about the idea of seeing her blonde goddess underneath a waterfall was something that belonged in fantasies. 

“Cool,” Lexa squeaks. 

“Uh huh,” Anya pokes Lexa’s chest, “good luck not giving anything away in front of Bell.” 

“Fuck,” Lexa breathes out. Thoughts of Clarke made her totally forget the presence of her own brother; one that would not be a fan of Lexa’s dreams. Lexa was going to need all the luck in the world.


	18. Don't Talk about It

The back of Bellamy’s SUV had plenty of space but Lexa was struggling to find the best way to pack their gear and Anya’s water toys. The pool noodles were serving as a pain in the ass for Lexa; her two choices were fold them or leave them sticking out past the back row seats. She takes the blue noodle, slightly bending it to shove it underneath the climbing gear, hoping the weight would contain it; it didn’t. The noodle wriggles its way out and slaps Lexa on the forehead, “ah, goddammit.”

“Here try this,” a familiar, velvety voice breaks Lexa’s concentration.

Lexa cannot contain the smile from spreading as she turns to meet the blue eyes now looking up at her, “Hey you.”

“Hi” Clarke matches the smile on Lexa’s face and she reaches out for a quick tug on Lexa’s hand. Lexa resists the urge to intertwine their fingers. 

“I haven’t seen you in a couple days,” Lexa realizes.

“Counting the days, are we?” Clarke cocks her grin to the side and winks. Lexa’s heart squeezes at the sight. 

“Always,” she returns the wink to Clarke.

“Seriously though,” Clarke grabs the noodle and twists it in such a way that the back of the seats and the side of the cargo keep it in place, “this should contain it especially if you stack stuff on it.”

Lexa takes a moment to admire the ingenuity before reaching out to flick Clarke’s hair, “show off.” A mess of blonde tendrils ebb and flow in a playful response while Lexa drowns in the blue absorbing her; Clarke curtseys. 

“Get a room,” Anya whispers as she squeezes past the two, placing her backpack on top of the noodles. Not a bad idea, Lexa thought to herself.

“Lexa!” 

Lexa looks through the cab to see Bellamy waving her over to him. Oh yea, he was there too; she needed to not forget that. It only takes a few strides to close the distance between them, and she quickly realizes his reasoning for calling out to her; he needed help hoisting the cooler to and into the vehicle.

“Jesus,” Lexa grunts when she lifts up on one end of the cooler, “is this Clarke’s entire fridge?”

Bellamy hoists the opposite side of the cooler up, “my thoughts exactly.” 

Clarke insisted on being responsible for lunch and snacks to take on the trip. It was a good thing they didn’t have to hike into the woods; there was no way even Bell and Lexa could manage carrying this thing any further than fifteen feet. After some effort, they manage to slide it into the back; Lexa can see that Clarke has already claimed a spot on the back row of seats and Anya is sitting in the passenger seat. 

“Oh, excuse me miss,” Lexa teases as she slides into the space next to Clarke, bumping her. Some backpacks made their way into the back row directly behind the passenger seat. This meant only the middle section and spot behind the driver were available; Lexa and Clarke were in for a cozy ride. She noticed that there was still room in the back for those backpacks and wondered if Clarke packed them here on purpose.

“Mmm hmm…” Clarke pokes Lexa’s side, before settling closer. 

“Alright!” Bellamy bounces into the driver seat, “I think we’re ready to hit the road.” He turns in his seat to face Anya then Clarke and Lexa, giving them all a sloppy, goofy grin. Lexa was always amused by the childlike qualities her brother possessed. 

The trip out was mostly uneventful, aside from the few times Clarke would rub her hand up and down Lexa’s thighs. Each time Lexa thought her heart was going to explode out of her chest from beating too feverishly; she would search for Bellamy’s reflection in the rearview mirror to make sure he was oblivious. On occasion she would catch eye contact with him; she prayed her eyes didn’t betray her.

“So are you going to climb?” Lexa directs the question at Clarke while everyone does their part to unpack the vehicle. 

“No way!” Bellamy answers for Clarke. Lexa fixes him with a stare, annoyed that he felt comfortable enough answering for Clarke; she ignores him and waits for a response from the blonde. Lexa watches Clarke’s gaze follow the cliff, up, up and away from their secure spot here on the ground.

“Highly unlikely,” Clarke lets out a laugh.

“Scared of heights?”

“Scared of hitting the ground,” Clarke corrects. 

A snort escapes Lexa’s nostrils; Clarke’s quips never failed to amuse her, “well, if you do it correctly, you manage to avoid hitting the ground.” Lexa teases back. She wanted to teach Clarke how to climb, mostly so she could have an excuse to be close to her.

“Maybe,” Clarke says quietly as she gently tugs on the front of Lexa’s shirt, closing the distance between them. 

“Okay, well let me know if you change your mind!” Lexa steps back, remembering that Bellamy was still a factor; she noticed Clarke’s brows furrow in response. She wanted desperately to explain everything but figured that would do more harm than good. They were just casual anyway so why get hurt feelings involved, right? Although, the way her body responded to Clarke’s proximity or the mere mention of the girl’s name would suggest Lexa’s predicament was anything but casual. She would have to suppress the shit out of that.

Lexa skips over to Bellamy to help him finish setting up their climbing gear. She sneaks a look over her shoulder in time to see Clarke slipping out of her top layers, revealing a navy blue bikini that hugged and shaped the girl’s figure; goosebumps travel up Lexa’s neck. The illusion is shattered when Anya walks into frame to hand Clarke a bottle of sun protection.  
“Let’s climb,” Lexa slaps her hands, spreading the chalk across her palms. 

****************************************************

The water was colder than Clarke expected; a gasp escapes past her lips, “this is fucking frigid, Ayn.”

“You have to just jump in!” Anya submerges herself in the pooling of water below the waterfall, rising to float on her back. 

“I’m more of a tip toe in and cry about it type,” Clarke slowly walks towards the waterfall, the water getting deeper and colder with each step. She uses one of the pool noodles as a make-shift seat to help her float casually. Anya’s noodle was supporting her shoulders above water. Once you got past the sharpness of the cold water, it was a relaxing scene, secluded from the city.

“I bet you guys spent all of your summers here,” Clarke hummed.

“Any chance we could,” Anya sighs, “as long as Gustus and Becca weren’t dragging us all over the world or enrolling us in subsidiary bull shit.”

“Is that why those two,” Clarke nods towards the siblings currently scaling the rocks above them, “never stop moving?”

Anya nods, “I had a different response, ha. I go out of my way to make time for myself to do nothing.”

“I can see that,” Clarke flicks some water towards her floating friend. In many ways Anya was different from her siblings; Clarke noticed that early on in the friendship. When she met Lexa, the differences then seemed exponential. Where Anya was reserved and explosive, Lexa was playful and steady; Bellamy was somewhere in between it all. The family resemblance was obvious but plenty of nuances existed that set them all apart from one another. 

“So what’s the deal with you and Lex?” Anya is now floating next to Clarke, only speaking loud enough for the two of them to hear.

“You already know,” Clarke tries to blow off the question, but Anya wasn’t having it.

“I know the way you look at her,” Anya turns to face Clarke, “and it isn’t casual like you’re trying to convince me or yourself.”

Casual wasn’t a difficult thing for Clarke. In fact, casual would be one of the adjectives she or anyone else, she would think, would list as an attribute of hers. Therefore, when Lexa proposed the agreement, Clarke didn’t anticipate any issues with the matter, but sometimes things in life cannot be anticipated. Anya was correct and Clarke knew this; the more she learned and observed Lexa, the more she wanted of her; not to mention the way her heart reacts to the brunette as if those notes of sandalwood were home. 

“I like her,” Clarke settles.

“Uh, yea,” Anya laughs, “duh.”

Clarke shrugs, “it’s still casual, though.”

She could admit liking Lexa without having to change the dynamic between them. Clarke was comfortable with her emotions, allowing them to flow freely through her, guiding her towards any experiences available. She never wanted to define something for fear of trapping herself in a confined box, unmoving and limiting. 

“I think she likes you, too” 

Clarke snaps her head towards Anya, dampened hair sticking to the sides of her cheeks and forehead. She pushes the hair from her face, “excuse me?”

“Yea, of course, this isn’t my business and I’m just speculating,” Anya twists her hand in the air, twirling it as if she was conducting a symphony, “but I haven’t noticed any girls being paraded throughout the house.”

Clarke couldn’t and wouldn’t lie to herself, hearing that Lexa wasn’t seeing other people sent butterflies scattering about between and through her chest. She doesn’t fight the curving of her lips; a smile nearly blinding as the sun stamped on her face. 

“Yea, yea I probably shouldn’t have told you that,” Anya grumbles.

Clarke bites her tongue, letting out a few spurts of air like a leaky valve. 

“I assume you know not to pressure her,” Anya adds, mimicking chicken flapping while nodding towards her sister, “she is quick to run.”

“I have no obligations, dear Anya, and that’s the tru— ” 

Clarke is interrupted by the sound of something sliding. She looks up to see Lexa’s body falling before the line goes tight, slamming the girl against the stone wall; Lexa cries out. She can feel the blood pounding in her ears as her hearts flips at the sight before her, “Lexa!” She shouts, scrambling to get out of the water, buckling a few times when she steps on the river rocks; she has always been a tenderfoot. 

She helplessly stands by Bellamy, whom is responsible for keeping the tension in Lexa’s line. Clarke can see that Lexa is bleeding on her right calf, but the girl manages to correct herself and began descending down the rock wall. Clarke doesn’t realize she is holding her breath until she sees Lexa place both feet safely on the ground.

***********************************

This wasn’t the first time Lexa missed on a swing and it surely would not be her last. The scrape on her leg was a superficial wound but if you factored Clarke’s reaction you would think Lexa lost her leg. As soon as Lexa landed on the ground, Clarke was on her, forcing her to lie down. She grabbed Lexa’s leg, pulling it up onto a nearby rock for elevation.

“Get the rubbing alcohol!” Clarke barks orders at Anya and Bellamy, “Go!” She shouts again at them as they stand there staring at her. 

“Clarke, Lexa is fine,” Anya tries to calm her. Lexa searches her own body, checking for something serious thinking that Clarke could see something she didn’t know about. 

“My mom is a dr,” Clarke huffs, spreading her arms out like a mother hen over her chicks, “I’ve seen her do this a million times!”

After doing a body check on herself, Lexa knew she was fine and that the scratch on her leg was nothing serious. She hated seeing Clarke so worked up but had to admit that it was nice seeing this protective side of the blonde; especially since it was just for her. 

“Clarke,” Anya tries to stifle the sputtering of giggles about to escape her, “I am a doctor. Lexa is fine.”

Clarke breaks her eye contact with Anya to look at Lexa; Lexa offers her smile, hoping it was enough to calm the girl above her. 

“Sorry, I uh,” Clarke helps Lexa to her feet, pulling on both of her hands, “that scared me.”

“It’s okay—I” Lexa tries to reassure before she is interrupted by a particular loud mouth.

“You have the biggest heart!” Bellamy walks over to Clarke, wrapping her up in a hug. Lexa’s stomach twisted at the sight; she decided to distract herself by cleaning up the wound. 

She felt silly for being annoyed with Bellamy’s displays of affection. After all, she was the one that was sleeping with the girl, not him, but he got to freely express his admiration. Lexa shakes her head. What was she thinking? Why did she want to show public displays of affection? This was a breach of the rules; majorly. Casual, she reminds herself, this is casual. She looks down at her chest, eyeing the layers of skin between her and her heart, “no one asked for your opinion,” she fusses. 

The wind carries notes of vanilla and lavender to her, as she breathes it in; she turns to see Clarke standing near her. Before she can say a word, Clarke wraps her arms around her, pulling her into a hug. The tension in Lexa’s back loosens as she gives into the warmth and comfort of the embrace. She snakes her hands around Clarke’s waist, pulling them closer together.

“Come over tonight?” Clarke whispers into Lexa’s neck. 

“Yes ma’am,” Lexa gently places a kiss on Clarke’s forehead before stepping back in time to avoid Bellamy’s curious gaze.


	19. Habits

Lexa shifts, allowing the girl in her arms to nuzzle closer to place a head on her chest. The LED light strips along the top of the walls, tracing the ceiling were a soft glow, like a baby blue. It’s a good thing there was some sort of light-source because those curtains were not letting anything through, she thought to herself. 

Lexa wanted light in the room so that she could see the beauty next to her. She uses an index finger to casually trace Clarke’s shoulders, circling and poking at the many freckles she found there. She sits quietly, listening to the soft hums as the blonde inhaled and exhaled slowly and peacefully. Lexa needed to check the time but didn’t want to risk moving too much and disturb Clarke; she knew that sleeping didn’t happen easily for the girl. She would hate to disrupt any kind of rest the artist managed to capture; even if that meant staying longer than she planned. However, the heavy-footed steps quickly approaching Clarke’s room proved that Lexa wouldn’t have to worry about disturbing the girl; her roommate was more than capable.

“Are you guys decent?!” Raven pushes open the door, causing it to slap against the door stop. 

Lexa jerks forward, grabbing a handful of blanket to pull over bare chest and body, “why even bother asking?”

“Because that would be rude,” Raven walks up to the bed, sitting on the edge of it near Clarke’s feet, “geeze you wore her out.” Raven pokes at the bottom of Clarke’s feet looking for any reaction from her.

“mmmm, stop,” Clarke whines before shoving Raven off the bed with one of her feet; Raven lands with muffled thud.  
Curious, Lexa sits up to see that Raven landed in a pile of clothes. She should have guessed, it wasn’t a secret that Clarke was not the tidiest person. Normally, this would be a turn off for Lexa but she found it endearing in the blonde; it somehow accentuated the artistic nature that flourished in Clarke. 

Lexa takes advantage of the interruption, reaching over to grab her phone from the night-stand: midnight. It wasn’t as late as she thought. There were a couple missed calls from a number she hasn’t dialed in a little bit; the redheaded barista. She typed out a quick message.

Lexa: Sorry, not tonight. 

r.h. Barista: Aww, baby c'mon

Lexa removed the notification; there would be no answering that booty call tonight. She tosses her phone onto her pair of acid washed jeans crumpled on the floor. 

Lexa leans back as Clarke moves to a sitting position next to her. She lifts the blanket, offering to share it but the gesture is denied. Lexa smirks, looking at the naked girl next to her; she enjoyed how boldly Clarke remained exposed in front of their intruder.

“What do you want?” Clarke’s voice drops with hints of sleep still lingering.

“You guys skipped dinner and after not hearing screams for an hour, I figured you two were taking a break and could use some sustenance.” By this point, Raven has reclaimed her spot at the foot of the bed. 

Raven didn’t seem to bat an eye at lying on a bed with two naked women; Lexa was intrigued by the relationship Clarke and Raven had. Her mind wondered, imagining what it would have been like to meet and know a younger Clarke. She bet there was a lot of fire in the girl; occasionally, she could see the flame dancing in those blue irises. 

Clarke looks down at her stomach as if she were asking its opinion, “Yea, I guess I’m hungry.”

“I should go,” Lexa throws back the blankets, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Fuck,” Raven openly gawks, taking no shame in studying the body before her; Lexa winks. 

“You have the same mole as your sister,” Raven snickers.

Clarke slaps Raven with a pillow, sending the girl toppling off the bed once more, “get out.”

There was another glimpse of the fire that Lexa was hungry to see more of; she couldn’t contain the devilish grin splitting and exposing her teeth. Once Raven shut the door behind her, Lexa walked up to Clarke, taking her by the back of the neck, tilting the girl’s head so that she could press their lips together. Clarke immediately opens her mouth, giving Lexa permission to explore further. Lexa feels Clarke pulling her onto the bed once more; she pulls back enough to pause the kissing, “I need to go.” 

“I don’t understand why you don’t just sleep over, Lex” Clarke huffs. 

“You know I don’t do that,” Lexa sits on the bed, pulling on her briefs. 

“You’re ruled by rules,” Clarke stands up to walk over to a black robe draped over a chair, wrapping it around her body. Lexa considered breaking all sorts of rules seeing the dark fabric in contrast to the ivory legs and golden hair. After buttoning her jeans, she strides over to Clarke, pulling her close.

“I’ll see you soon?” She tucks a finger underneath the petite chin, raising it until she could look into Clarke’s eyes. The blue she found there was cloudy; she wondered what kind of storm was brewing beneath. 

Clarke rises to her tip toes, slowly bringing her lips millimeters from Lexa’s; “definitely,” she whispers before pressing a chaste kiss.

***************************************

Clarke waves as she watches the Jeep pull out of her driveway, “you’re so frustrating.” 

“What was that?” Raven shouts from the kitchen. Clarke spoke a little louder than she intended or Raven has sonic hearing; either way, she wouldn’t be surprised by the answer. 

“Is the food ready?” she asks, not willing to repeat her previous statement; it wasn’t meant for Raven anyhow.  
Raven slides a plate of Tomatokeftedes down the counter towards Clarke. She catches the plate and plucks one from it, taking a bite; her mouth waters once she breaks through the rough edges of the fritter as notes of mint, tomato, and onion chunks envelope her mouth, “mmmm this is so good.” 

“Your girl is an odd one,” Raven claims one of the fritters for herself, popping it fully into her mouth.

“Yea,” Clarke opens the fridge, grabbing the water pitcher to fill a glass, “but she is an incredible lover.”

“Oh, I already know,” Raven takes a sip of Clarke’s water, “you two aren’t quiet.”

“Did Anya explain why she didn’t say anything about Lexa?”

Raven’s eyes squint as she looks up, bringing a hand to her chin, “Um, she may have mentioned a sister at one point but we don’t do much talking.” Raven winks at Clarke.

“Yea, makes sense,” Clarke places her empty plate into the sink, “getting Anya to talk about personal stuff is like pulling adult teeth. But it’s weird that Bell didn’t say anything, yea?”

Raven nods, “I agree. If it matters to you, then you should talk to him.”

“I don’t think I can,” Clarke pops her fingers, biting the inside of her lip, “He may figure out I’m sleeping with her.”

“You guys are still hiding that?”

“Lexa is,” Clarke twists her fingers in her hair, slightly rubbing the back of her head, “technically.”

“Why?”

Clarke shrugs then throws her hands up, “no clue but now I’m feeling some inspiration. Don’t bother me for the next little bit.” She sulks into the studio, grabbing random brush sizes and lots of black, grey, and brown paints on her way to the canvas. 

The brown and black loaded paint brushes took Clarke on a journey of deep profiles; the lines started edgy and jagged, darting across the board. She pressed a little harder on the strokes to broaden the lines. She ignores the paint dripping onto her toes; feeling calmed by the cool temperatures of the oils. The painting begins to soften once she starts adding the grey. The lines were thin and added highlights to the dark canvas. 

Satisfied with the grey addition, she steps back, trying to absorb the energy; it was missing something. She tried sitting down, looking up at the canvas to change perspective, but that only resulted in her getting paint all over the seat of her robe. She ignores it, allowing her mind to flow to the first image: a particular set of piercing eyes. She knew what the painting needed. 

“Green,” She says to the canvas, grinning.


	20. No Control

“Here,” Bellamy hands a microfiber cloth to Lexa, “do you mind wiping down the mats?”

Lexa takes the cloth from him, “Sure.” 

She didn’t mind the cleanup process after classes; it was cathartic. Lexa enjoyed getting to work through the list of tasks required to prep the room for the next class: sweep and wipe down mats, reload fresh towels, and grab a fresh stack of rental gis. Bellamy and Lexa often worked through these tasks together, silently and meticulously meeting their obligations.

Lexa’s phone chirps, alerting her to a new text message on her phone. She walks over to the cubbies, grabbing her backpack to unzip the top where she housed her phone. Normally, Lexa would ignore the notification but she hasn’t heard from Clarke in a couple days; she hoped it was a ‘mulligan’ alert. 

Clarke: Question

Lexa scrunches her face; she couldn’t understand why someone wouldn’t just type out their question. Clarke was lucky she was cute, Lexa thought to herself. Still, Lexa was curious to know more; she was used to the blonde being direct.

Lexa: Sure

Clarke: Is being my date for something against your precious rules?

Lexa: someone is snarky today

An incoming call surprises Lexa. She drops her phone onto the mats and it flops over to where Bellamy was standing. Thankfully, the phone landed face down; the caller would be unknown to her brother. Before he can bend over to retrieve the phone from the floor, Lexa slides in, taking it back into her hands, “gotta grab this,” she quickly spits out before excusing herself to the parking lot.

“Hi” The sound of Clarke’s voice blankets Lexa with comfort, easing the tension she was carrying between her shoulders. The blonde had a talent for making Lexa forget the world.

“Hey,” Lexa smiles, “so why are we making fun of my rules?”

She hears Clarke stifle a laugh, “Sorry about that. My mom is hosting a party at her house this weekend. I’m expected to be there and she has threatened to set me up with someone.”

“I see,” Lexa retorts.

Clarke sighs, “I know we’re casual and I’m not trying to break that. I just don’t feel like politely dealing with whatever poor soul my mom has selected for me to entertain.”

This definitely rubbed against Lexa’s rules. Sure, she has taken many dates to parties hosted by the company but never with a girl she sees on a regular basis. Those sort of settings had a way of making things seem more serious than they actually were. Of course, taking a stranger to public gatherings had its drawbacks; once, Lexa brought a girl that didn’t practice the concept of pacing yourself and she ended up trying to strip in front of everyone at the event. Lexa didn’t get into trouble though, Gustus thought it was more amusing than anything. In fact, she was pretty certain he hooked up with the girl later that night. Lexa didn’t mind; after the embarrassment, she had no intention of touching the girl.

“You don’t think that will blur things?” Lexa hated the words the moment they left her mouth.

“Nevermind,” Clarke huffs. 

“Wait,” suddenly not wanting to disappoint the girl, Lexa tries to cover her statement, “I would love to.”

“Seriously?” 

Lexa can hear the smile in Clarke’s voice. 

“Text me the details please,” Lexa lowers her voice once she sees Bellamy approaching. 

“Yes ma’am,” Clarke giggles. They end their conversation with short goodbyes.

“Who are you talking to?” Bellamy asks, concern dwelling in his eyes.

“TriKru stuff,” Lexa lies. She knew getting random calls from work throughout the day was nothing new for her. In fact, she was surprised she hadn’t received more calls this evening. It also helped that the mentioning of that place would make her brother turn and run; theoretically and literally.

“Did you look at those applicants I sent you?” She pivots the conversation.

“I did,” He chirps, “and two of them look very promising.” 

“Excellent,” she claps her hands, “get some interviews scheduled this week then.”

“In a hurry to leave?” He ruffles the hair in her messy, top bun. 

“I don’t know,” she gently shoves him, “I think I can stick around without having to fulfil a job.”

“That would be something!” He howls. She fixes him with a stare before cracking into a smile of her own.

****************************************************

As promised, Clarke sent Lexa the details for the event. Abby loved hosting parties and the more ostentatious, the better. This month’s theme was a masquerade fusion, which basically means everyone wears their fancy clothes and masks for no reason other than to cure their mass boredom. 

A beam of light cascades through the kitchen, drawing a pattern across the picture frames hanging on the wall. 

“That must be Lexa,” Clarke hops from the bar stool, giving Raven a quick kiss on the cheek before running out to Lexa’s Jeep.

“Hi,” she breathes out as she slides into the seat; her nose is filled with those familiar notes of sandalwood and something different, something that smelled expensive, “are you wearing cologne?”

“Hi,” Lexa leans over, kissing Clarke’s cheek, “of course.”

The spot on Clarke’s cheek was still tingling from the other girl’s touch when they pulled out of the driveway. Clarke managed her best to navigate for them; only messing up twice by telling Lexa to “turn here!” only after the vehicle was past the turn. Lexa was a champ through it all, Clarke noticed; the brunette didn’t say a word, but the bulging vein in her forehead said enough. 

“You should really work on identifying lefts and rights,” Lexa teases, holding up her hands, shaping them into L’s. 

“Oh hush,” Clarke leans over the console, sliding her hand towards Lexa’s inner thighs. She bites her lip when Lexa’s eyebrow twitches, arching above her golden specked eyes. 

“We can skip the party if that’s what you’re going for,” Lexa adjusts her tuxedo trousers, arching up to pull out the creasing on her legs. 

Clarke pulls her hand away, “Nope, we rsvp’d.”

“I doubt your mother will even notice,” Lexa coos, trying to play with the hem of Clarke’s dress; which was fixed just above her knee. 

“You don’t know my mother,” Clarke says above a whisper, avoiding eye contact with Lexa and turning to see the trees passing by as they drove. Abby ran a tight ship and this applied to her offspring; there wasn’t room for error or exploration in a world like that. 

When they finally arrived, they were thirty minutes late. Clarke was pleased with this because she knew it would irritate her mom, “Here,” she hands Lexa a mask, “wear this, Vendetta.”

“With honor,” Lexa mimics a salute before placing the mask upon her face. 

Clarke was already taken by Lexa’s eyes but seeing them peering through the holes in the mask, isolated made them otherworldly; it was both haunting and invigorating. Clarke’s focus is interrupted by the door; Abby threw open the door once realizing Clarke and her guest had arrived. 

“Clarke!” Abby squeals, pulling Clarke into a hug before sizing the tall brunette posed as the date. 

“You must be Lexa,” Abby offers her hand and Clarke is amused when Lexa firmly meets it. God, she loved how confident the brunette was.

“Ms. Griffin,” Lexa flashes that signature cocky grin, “so nice to meet you.” 

At that, Abby was putty in the brunette’s hands. Clarke knew her mother, and that woman was not immune to flattery by gorgeous people. Clarke decided that bringing Lexa tonight was one of the best decisions she has made in a long time. She reaches out, grabbing Lexa’s hand, their fingers intertwine. 

“C’mon,” Clarke winks at her date, “time for drinks.”

***********************************

Meeting Abby Griffin let Lexa see where Clarke got some of her beauty. The matron was a beautiful woman, having aged quite gracefully; especially for having the responsibilities of a surgeon. Clarke favored her mother but there was something that set them apart; the eyes. Clarke didn’t have Abby’s eyes, and Lexa surmised that those bright blues must have come from the father. 

“Here,” Clarke hands Lexa a glass of whisky. 

“Mmm,” she hums when her lips taste the smoky beverage, “your mom stocks good whisky.”

Clarke scoffs, “Please, with help she orders everything special for the parties. Abby wouldn’t know top shelf from fountain.”

Before tonight, Lexa noticed that Clarke’s demeanor changed at any mention or reference to her mother. One mulligan night, Lexa tried to compliment the curtains and it nearly killed the mood for the evening. She wondered what the history was between those two. 

“Well this,” she lifts the glass, “was an excellent choice.”

“Clarke, hunnie,” Abby interrupts, offering an apologetic smile to Lexa, “some of my old friends are wanting to talk to you about some commission pieces.” 

Clarke’s eyes meet Lexa’s, pleading for forgiveness. Lexa reaches out, taking Clarke’s hand, and gently squeezes it, “I can occupy myself for a bit.” 

Lexa took the opportunity to look around the house, catching glimpses of Clarke’s life through pictures hanging on the wall. There were many several pictures of the blonde in jerseys; Lexa didn’t know Clarke played soccer. It didn’t surprise her, Clarke had the prettiest legs Lexa has had the pleasure of touching. It also explained Clarke’s athleticism and ability to dominate the cardio routines. Sometimes, Lexa would try ridiculous routines just to see if the blonde would get winded; never happened... not yet.

“Ah ha,” Lexa mutters, “found you.” 

Before her is a family portrait, nearly the width of a 65inch tv. There was no denying that the man in the portrait was Clarke’s father; his eyes were identical to Clarke’s. She liked his face; he had a smile that was warming, supported by a strong jawline and chin. Clarke shared some of the same bone structure. 

Lexa wondered why he wasn’t at the party. She was sure a man with those eyes and that size body frame would be easy for her to pick out in a crowd. 

Hands sneak around her waist, from behind she hears, “hey there.”

Lexa turns to pull Clarke closer, tilting her head to kiss the soft lips waiting for her, “Hi.” 

“Did you make a sale?”

A flurry of giggles escapes Clarke, “You make it sound as if I’m selling cars.”

“Well,” Lexa tilts her head to meet her shrugging shoulder, “are you making that coin?”

Clarke shakes her head, “You’re hopeless.” She pulls on Lexa’s collar, bringing their lips together once more. 

Instinctively, Lexa backs Clarke against the wall, pressing firmly against Clarke’s body. Her hand finds the hem of Clarke’s dress, slowly raising it to give her more access to the blonde’s ass. Clarke gasps once Lexa firmly grips the backside, hoisting up one of Clarke’s legs so it rested on Lexa’s hip. Pushing the panties aside, Lexa fully intended on finding out how ready Clarke was but a guest of the party stumbled upon their location.

“Oh,” the stranger gasped, “so sorry!”

Lexa turned her face from the stranger to hide the grin and laughter, but Clarke stared boldly at them with a blue flame flickering and roaring to burn. 

“No worries,” Lexa answers for the both of them. Clarke’s trance breaks and she looks up at Lexa, desire snuffing out the fire. 

“You’re coming home with me,” Clarke demands and Lexa can only nod in agreement.


	21. Something I Said

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the short chapter! I intended on making this a longer one but some stuff came up... and I still wanted to get something uploaded tonight. Maybe I'll make up for it by posting two chapters tomorrow (I said maybe *wink*).

“Ow, hold on,” Clarke arches her back, removing the coat hanger from underneath. Lexa raises to her elbows, creating enough space for Clarke to maneuver, “got it.” She tosses it to the floor before the brunette is on her once more; hungry kisses traveling along her neckline. 

After the party, the two made a beeline for Clarke’s place, barely acknowledging Raven on their way to the bedroom. She knew the roommate would have plenty to say about that later, but that was a problem for future Clarke. She wanted Lexa and wasn’t in a courteous mood and nether was Lexa; they wasted no time relieving themselves of all articles of clothing before Clarke’s back hit the bed.

“Yes,” Clarke gasps, “right there.”

She wraps her legs around the brunette as Lexa grinds her hips into Clarke. Her chest heaves with each heavy breath, breathing in the musk of the woman above her. Clarke cries out, bucking her hips as Lexa fills her; first with one finger, then two. 

She loosens the grip around Lexa’s waste, opening her legs to invite the brunette to go deeper. Her hands grip onto her lover’s back, causing tracks to travel down to the curvature of the woman’s ass. She grips it tighter in unison with every thrust. Clarke throws her head back, giving Lexa full access to her neck; which she takes greedily with every inch of her tongue. 

“Cum for me, baby” Lexa commands. Clarke obeys.

Under different circumstances, Clarke would have stalled on the word baby but this wasn’t the time. Lexa was touching her and felt too good to start asking questions. However, she did allow herself one second to wonder if Lexa even realized she said it.

“My turn,” Clarke’s smile splits into a wicked grin as she leans up, pushing Lexa to her back. She straddles the girl below her, slowly rocking her hips into the muscular abdomen. She takes a moment to watch the striations shift and flex throughout the body below her; Lexa truly was a work of art. 

Lexa leans up, taking Clarke’s mouth with her own. Clarke rests her hand behind Lexa’s neck as she continued to grind into the girl. Using her freehand, she explored Lexa’s center; a whine escapes her lips when she discovers how wet Lexa is for her. 

She slips her fingers inside, curving them slightly before slipping out. Lexa grabs the hand, pushing the fingers deeper inside. Clarke leans forward, pressing their chests together as they both gasp for air. Lexa was close; Clarke could feel it, “let go.” She whispers into Lexa’s ear. Lexa cries out, spasms cascading down her body. Clarke presses chaste kisses along the brunette’s neck, now dripping with sweat.

Clarke collapses onto Lexa, resting her head on the girl’s chest. She relaxes in the soft glow from the trim lights and Lexa’s rhythmic breaths. 

“How come I didn’t see your dad at the party?” 

Clarke coughs, rolling off of Lexa to sit up, “Excuse me?”

“Your dad,” Lexa sits up, shoulder to shoulder now with Clarke, “I didn’t see him there.”

“First off, is this seriously your first thought after…” Clarke gestures between them, both sitting her bed naked after fucking one another, “this.”

“Second,” she continues, “is this some dark humor kind of shit?”

Lexa’s forehead creases, one eyebrow arching; she stares at Clarke, “I don’t understand.”

Clarke rubs her face, slowly dragging both hands down her cheeks, “Ah, you don’t know. Well,” she licks her lips, “my dad died three years ago.” 

“Shit,” Lexa moves to touch her but Clarke flinches, avoiding the gesture, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Clarke tries to deflect; reflexively wrapping herself with her arms. 

“I didn’t know,” Lexa turns, facing Clarke so that she can look into her eyes; blue refusing to meet green. Clarke knew it wasn’t Lexa’s fault for not knowing but having to discuss this subject pained her. 

“I guess I’m not surprised neither Bell nor Anya told you,” Clarke sighs, “it isn’t something I discuss.” 

“Understood,” Lexa nods. 

“Mhmm,” Clarke grabs her robe, wrapping it around herself, tying it tightly as if it were the only thing holding her together. She bends over, collecting Lexa’s clothes from the floor handing them to her, “thanks for tonight.”

Lexa glances at the clothes then back to Clarke, a new crease forming in her forehead. The girl never had any issues leaving after sex on any other night and Clarke hoped it wouldn’t have to be an issue this night. She needed distance.

“Yea,” Lexa jumps out of the bed, collecting the clothes from Clarke, “it was fun. Thanks for inviting me.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Clarke offers, but Lexa shakes her head. 

“No need,” she smiles at Clarke, “enjoy the rest of your night, and again, I’m sorry.”

The awkwardness was nearly unbearable but Clarke didn’t have the mental fortitude to push past her grief, “okay, I’ll see you soon.” She tries to smile, watching Lexa exit her room. Once the door shuts, she falls to her knees, gripping her sides, crying for her dad.


	22. Just Ride

Arriving home, Lexa didn’t expect to see Clarke’s truck in the driveway. Her chest clenches and she shakes the throbbing nerves from her fingertips. It has been a couple days since their less than ideal interaction after the party, and although they have made amends through text, she didn’t expect to see the girl this soon.

She barely has enough time to open the door before hearing the shrieks and shrills filling the house. A booming laugh tackles her, she lifts her hands to her ears to shield them; Bell was obviously having a good time. She rounds the corner to find her two siblings and Clarke lying in a blue, plastic pool filled with bounce house balls. 

“What are you…” Lexa’s voice trails off, distracted by the shining light radiating from the blonde. 

Nearly submerged fully beneath the colorful balls, Clarke’s face poked out, a smile stretching from ear to ear. Lexa reveled in the innocent and melodic laughs bursting past that gorgeous smile. Lexa felt the corners of her own mouth twitch upwards when blue met green. 

“Cannon ball!” Bellamy shouts from the top of the couch.

“Bell, no!” Clarke and Anya scream in unison, but their attempt is futile; there was no stopping the boy. A rainbow of plastic balls dart from his impact with some hitting Lexa in the head and belly; she laughs, swatting the debris.

She is distracted by watching Anya glaring at their brother as he pokes his head from the pit, holding his hands up in submission. A single ball crashes against Lexa’s forehead; she knew someone had to throw it at her. It didn’t take much sleuthing to figure out this mystery. Clarke’s eyes were the shape of saucers, freezing the room, as her hands cover her mouth. Lexa notices a grin peeking through and is surprised when the girl drops her hands, sticking out a tongue at Lexa. 

“Oh yea?” Lexa warns. Clarke twists her head to the side, batting her eyes. Lexa accepts the challenge, rushing into the pit, splashing the plastic balls as she grabs the blonde’s sides. Clarke cries out in a flurry of giggles, doing her best to wiggle out of Lexa’s grasp. 

“You’re a brat,” she laughs as she continues to tickle the blonde. 

Clarke is saved by Bell and Anya when they pulled Lexa deeper into the pit, burying her with surrounding plastic balls. 

“Not fair!” she cries out, laughing so hard her ribs were starting to ache. Bell had her in a body lock as Anya and Clarke tickled her armpits. 

“Do you tap?” Bell giggles; clearly proud of them for getting the better of Lexa.

“I tap!” Lexa breathes out a sigh of relief once they cease the tickling. Her lips form a frown. 

“Poor thing,” Clarke whispers, tucking some loose strands behind Lexa’s ear. 

Lexa stared into the blue eyes before her that were trying to ease her discomfort. She wanted to reach out, cupping the blonde’s face to pull her into a kiss. Looking at the full, pink lips made Lexa realize how much she missed kissing them. 

“I’m ordering pizza!” Bellamy calls out, breaking the connection between Lexa and Clarke. 

“Smooth,” Anya whispers into Lexa’s ear. Lexa turns to her sister, raising a fist to flip her off. In response, Anya’s mouth twists into a lopsided grin. 

“So what is,” Lexa scoops up some balls into her arms, “this all about?”

“We were bored and your sister here,” Clarke answers, squeezing Anya’s knee, “had the great idea.”

Lexa shakes her head, “of course she did.”

“Hey,” Anya points at Lexa, but pauses to look up at the ceiling, “I’m going to get some twizzlers.”

“Pick out a movie for us to watch!” Bellamy commands from the kitchen. Judging by the opening and slamming of cabinet doors, Lexa knew he was gathering all the snacks available in the house. 

“Okay!” Clarke beams, lurching forward to grab the remote. 

Lexa lacked patience for movies but seeing how happy they made the blonde made her want to give them another chance. She tiptoes past the ball pit and debris surrounding it, settling into a spot on the love seat. Once settled into the pillow there, she focuses her attention on the blonde before her. Clarke was shuffling her weight between her heels with furrowed brows, chewing on her fingernails as she peruses through the catalog of films. 

“This can take a while,” Anya says over to Lexa from her spot on the sectional, chomping on a twizzler from her freshly opened bag. Lexa can smell the processed sugars from across the living room. 

Clarke turns to face them, the corners of her mouth pointed downward, “I want to pick the perfect one.”

“Guys, don’t pick on Clarke,” Bell defends her, entering the room with an armful of chip bags, Oreos, and popcorn. A few popcorn kernels fall into the seat cushions as he plops down next to Anya. 

“God, Bell,” Lexa grimaces, “you’re already making a mess.” 

He looks around, shrugging once he eyes the few pieces scattered about his seat. 

She is surprised when Clarke sits next to her, pulling a blanket over their legs to share. It was an olive green thermal blanket that was just heavy enough to be cozy but not too hot. She looks up to see Bellamy staring at them, watching as Clarke rests her legs on Lexa’s as she leans back against the sofa to look directly at the television. His eyebrow twitches before he turns to focus on the screen, avoiding their direction.  
Allowing a sigh to escape, Lexa rests her head against the couch. A mixture of emotions swirled in her chest; she enjoyed this casual display of affection from Clarke but a deeper part of her was itching to run. It had nothing to do with Bellamy’s growing suspicion and jealousy, though she didn’t look forward to the outcome of that. This was more about Clarke’s infiltration of Lexa’s fortress. How had the blonde managed to get Lexa to this point and without effort, seemingly? 

She knew Clarke well enough to see that this girl was ruled by her heart and didn’t seem to limit herself. She also knew it wasn’t a big deal to Clarke, nor was it something binding to have this type of attention from the girl. Nevertheless, Lexa was struggling with her own behavior; she wanted the attention and wanted to reciprocate it. This was foreign to her and disrupted her routine. 

Lexa gently picks up Clarke’s legs, placing them on the couch as she stands up. Clarke looks up at her, creases congregating on her forehead. 

“I have work stuff,” Lexa whispers, gently squeezing Clarke’s ankle for comfort.

Sure, technically it was a lie. Yes, Lexa always had work things to attend to but none of that would have her attention tonight. She needed to create some space from her emotions with the best way she knows how; exploring a stranger. Once through the threshold of her room, she pulls out her phone. She scrolls until she lands on the number for her barista friend, quickly typing out a message but before she can hit send a set of footsteps distracts her.

“Hey,” Clarke’s raspy voice paralyzes Lexa. 

Suddenly, she felt guilty for wanting to reach out to the barista. See, this is what Lexa didn’t want. She didn’t want to feel this type of vulnerability with someone, and the worst part was the blonde wasn’t forcing it.

“Hey,” Lexa breathes out, setting the phone on her bed; she didn’t hit send on the message. She sits down onto the mattress next to her phone. 

“Are you ok?” Clarke walks towards her, reaching out to touch Lexa’s cheek. 

Lexa leans into the gesture, letting Clarke comfort her, “yes ma’am, I’m just tired.” Tired of feeling some type of way she thought more specifically. 

“I’m sorry for the way I acted the other night,” Clarke sits down next to Lexa. 

“No need,” Lexa didn’t need an apology from Clarke; she understood that grief was a tricky beast. 

“You didn’t deserve that and I don’t want it to mess this,” she points to Lexa then herself, “up. We have fun together, yea?”

Fun. 

“Absolutely,” Lexa puts on a lopsided grin, “you don’t owe any explanation, seriously.” Lexa grabs Clarke’s index finger, drawing out a criss cross across her chest, “promise.”  
This seems to do the trick. Clarke smiles before pulling Lexa into a slow kiss; taking her time to taste every surface of Lexa’s mouth. After taking a moment to enjoy it, Lexa pulls back to rest her forehead against Clarke’s, “I am going to sleep now.” 

“Okay,” Clarke whispers back, a smile spreading on her face, “good night.” 

“Good night, Clarke.”

Instead of resuming her previous adventure, Lexa decided sleep might be the best thing for her tonight. 

*****************************************

Lexa woke that next morning energized and inspired to cook a big breakfast. She darts out of her room, wasting no time to jog to the kitchen to gather all the supplies. She had picked up some tomatoes and squash from the fresh market yesterday during her lunch break; those two were going to play a massive role in her breakfast feast. 

“Eggs, eggs eggs,” she sings while rummaging through the refrigerator, trying to locate the carton. She finds them, pulling out some heavy whipping cream, garlic, and mushrooms in the process. 

“Nice,” Anya peeks at the ingredients spread across the counter, “my belly is already excited.” She slaps her abdomen a couple times. 

“Good,” Lexa pulls out a couple skillets, “you’ll need your appetite. I’m fixing a feast!” She holds the skillets above her head as if claiming victory in a Roman battle. 

“I’ll pass,” Bellamy grumbles once he enters the room.

“What’s your problem?” Anya hisses at him.

“Nothing,” he pushes past her on the stools, bending over to pick up his backpack. Lexa was unable to rationalize his choice in using that spot as storage for his bags. 

“Where are you going?” Lexa asks, knowing the gym was closed today. 

“Clarke and I are going for a run,” he huffs as if she should have been able to read his mind. Lexa didn’t keep up with her brother, let alone his running schedule. 

“Any idea what’s with the attitude?” Lexa asks Anya once Bellamy exits the house.

“Not sure but,” Anya squints her eyes, “if I were to guess I would say it has something to do with Clarke being all over you last night during the movie. I mean, you two,” She widened her eyes for dramatic flair, “were basically fucking on the couch in front of him.”

“Sheesh, Anya shut up,” Lexa laughs, “It was nothing.”

“Right,” Anya plucks a chopped pepper from the cutting board, biting into it with a loud crunch, “mmmm.”

“Since you’re sitting there being useless,” Lexa pulls the cutting board out of Anya’s reach, “how about go clean up the ball pit?”

“Ugh,” Anya slides off the barstool, “fine, but only since it was my idea.”

Lexa knew it was silly but having that mess in the living room was making it hard for her to concentrate on cooking, “thank you.”

“Oh,” Anya shouts from the living room, “by the way, we invited Clarke to dad’s birthday party.”

Lexa jerks her head up, “you did what? Why?”

“She hasn’t met him,” Anya shoves plastic balls into a bag; blue, green, yellow, red one by one making their way from the floor to the bag.

“That is hardly a reason to introduce them,” Lexa mixes a little too vigorously, causing some egg wash to slosh onto the counter, “well damn.” She grabs a rag to clean it up, squirting the surface with Lysol. 

Anya walks up to the bar, facing Lexa, eyeing her through an arched eyebrow, “You don’t want him hitting on her!” Anya laughs as she walks around the corner to her little sister, grabbing Lexa into a hug from behind, “You really do like her.”

“Whose idea was it to invite her,” Lexa asks as she shrugs Anya off of her. 

“Mine,” Anya plucks another pepper slice from the counter, “sort of. Mom mentioned it a couple times and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to invite her.”

Lexa rubs her eyebrows, “You didn’t think Bell would lose his shit?”

Anya shakes her head, “He was supportive last night and encouraged Clarke to join.”

“I’m not playing referee between those two,” Lexa warns. 

“I don’t think Bell is the one we need to worry about,” Anya smirks at Lexa, eyeing her up and down.


	23. Blue Velvet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made this chapter a little longer to make up for not posting two yesterday. I want to thank everyone for the kudos and discussion. I enjoy getting to read your reactions! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“We need to go get ready for your party,” Lexa laughs, watching her dad try to hit the golf ball. 

Gustus decided he wanted to spend the day drinking while playing Top Golf. Lexa didn’t mind the sport, or the drinking, but after a few hours, she was ready for a change in scenery. This was one of the ways in which she differed from her father: he could spend hours doing nothing at all whereas Lexa always felt like she needed to spend time doing something productive. Even her trysts were productive in Lexa’s mind; sex was a form of exercise and she got to help someone else feel good, too.

“Ah, fuck em!” He shouts, catching the eyes of a few young women surrounding them; neither of them going unnoticed by the salt and pepper stud, “I’m getting better!”

She could relate to his appreciation for women but goodness, sometimes it seemed like that was his only ambition. This was insane to think about considering the man has started and ran two multi-billion dollar companies. 

“Hardly,” Lexa grins, standing up, staggering over to take her turn swinging at the ball. 

Lexa was capable of holding her liquor and this was true for Gustus, too, but when you’ve been drinking since early morning, the spirits have a way of owning you. She needed to chug her purple pedialyte, and judging by her father’s staggering, he needed some as well. In fact, it was Gustus that taught her the pedialyte trick; explaining the process and how having a routine helps you consistently play harder.

Once she slaps the ball into the arena, she grabs a pedialyte from the cooler, opening it before handing to him, “here, drink this.”

“Oh yes, you’re brilliant,” he coos, taking the beverage with one hand, holding it up to his lips to chug the entire thing.

“Good thing I brought more than one,” Lexa slants her eyes at him before grabbing a bottle for herself. She enjoyed the tart flavors from the grape; it always felt refreshing and revitalizing to a tipsy Lexa. 

“I talked to Lincoln the other day,” Gustus shared with Lexa, his speech slightly slurring from the booze, “I love the reports. You’re doing a great job, Lex.”

She enjoyed his praise. Smiling, she lightly pounds her chest, “I learned from the best.”

Gustus bellows, laughing from his belly, “damn right! Too bad your brother couldn’t do the same.”

Lexa flinched. She shouldn’t be surprised; Gustus always found moments to discuss or passively mention his disappointment of his only son. She didn’t like getting in the middle of things between those two and had learned many ways of deflecting, “So that strawberry blonde over there is a cutie, yea?”

Gustus took the bait, leaning against the golf club, “I had my eye on her, too.”

“Okay, this is our last round,” She nudges him up to the mat, “after this we go home and get dressed. Deal?”

She holds out her hand and Gustus firmly shakes it, “Deal.”

**********************************************

“What’s the deal with you and,” Raven wiggles her eyebrows, “baby woods?”

Clarke twists the flat iron, trying to focus on curling her hair rather than answering Raven’s question. She only had a few strips remaining before her hair would be ready for Gustus’ birthday party. Raven sits down; squirming until she is taking up most of the space on the ottoman Clarke was using to prep for the night. 

“You know ignoring me isn’t going to work,” Raven takes the flat iron from Clarke, helping her reach the back of her head. 

“There isn’t much to say, Rae; nothing I haven’t already told you a thousand times,” Clarke sighs, “it’s just casual…we’re friends.”

Clarke was growing tired of visiting this topic. Raven wasn’t the only one asking about it 24-7, but Abby, the matron herself, wanted to know all the details concerning Clarke and her lovely date from a while ago. It all made her feel like they were placing her in a box; one with obligations and rules she had to follow. Sure, Lexa was the kind of person Clarke could (and have) imagine being in a structured relationship with. But, and it’s a big but, the girl was very clear with Clarke early on that she didn’t do serious; Clarke had every intention of honoring that.

“Maybe you two should revisit that,” Raven scrunches Clarke’s hair, adding texture to the waves. 

“Listen, I don’t know if something serious is something I want and I’m not going to bother her with it,” Clarke stands, straightening out her dress.

“Anya seems to think Lexa is serious,” Raven picks off some lint from Clarke’s dress.

Anya hints at that with Clarke but she chooses to ignore it. If Lexa wanted something serious, Clarke trusted the woman to be mature enough to discuss it.

“Why do you care so much?” Clarke’s voice was harsher than she intended. She offered her friend a smile to soften the delivery.

“Because I want to see you happy, stupid.”

“I don’t need a relationship to be happy.”

“True, but don’t avoid one just because you know,” Raven avoids directly mentioning Clarke’s father, “You’re afraid of losing it.”

Clarke was not going to pick that up, “How do I look?” She twirls, giving Raven a full view of her outfit. 

“Gorgeous,” Raven smiles, “you’re going to cause all sorts of drama looking like that.”

Clarke rolls her eyes but was happy to have Raven’s company. Admittedly, Clarke was feeling anxious about the party. She didn’t know much about the patriarch of the Woods family; which made him seem mythical. She was intrigued to meet the man that made these three beautiful beings with Becca. She wanted to make a good impression. 

She wished Raven was coming to the party, but Anya never brings dates to anything; it had something to do with not wanting it used against her. Anya was too paranoid for Clarke’s taste.

“I think I hear a vehicle pulling into the drive,” Raven calls from her bedroom. 

Clarke pulls back the curtains, peeking through the blinds; sure enough, there was the limousine Anya warned her about. She looks at the clock on her nightstand, “right on time,” she rushes to her closet to dig out her heels, “of course they are.”

To her credit, they only had to wait five or six minutes for her to finish getting ready. There were plenty of times where Clarke costed everyone thirty minutes because she couldn’t find something; she really needed to clean up her room every once and awhile.

She struts to the vehicle, frowning when she counts only two people: Bellamy and Anya, “Where is Lexa?”

“She is with our dad,” Anya hands Clarke a mini vodka bottle with the equivalent of two shots in it, “they always spend his birthday together doing something at our father’s whim.”

She thought it was odd that only one of them spent the day with their father; it made sense to her that this would be a collective sibling duty.

Clarke accepts the bottle, eyeing it, “You pre-game for your dad’s birthday?”

Bellamy and Anya both snort. “It’s a necessity, trust us,” Anya answers. 

Dutifully, Clarke twists the seal on the bottle and throws it back, swallowing the contents in one swoop. Her body gets invaded by shivers as the clear poison travels into her belly; that first shot always gets her. 

Anya wastes no time shoving another bottle into Clarke’s hand, “keep up.”

****************************************************

“Becca has outdone herself,” Gustus states, his chest puffed out, stressing the buttons on his collared shirt. 

Lexa had to agree; her mom really brought the vibe with this party. The themes were golds and royal blues; walking into her parent’s house felt like stepping into an Egyptian ballroom with all of the vibrant colors gripping each surface of the house. Their house was nearly unrecognizable. 

Lexa peeled her eyes from the scenery, searching for familiar faces amongst the attendees. She and Gustus arrived late, of course, and she hoped to find Clarke amongst the crowd. She didn’t have to search long; her father’s hawk eyes swooped in.

“Bell, Ayna!” He yells, having spotted the two quickly. They walk over to her siblings, both of which looking at them now. Anya looked happy to see Gustus, walking to meet him. He picked her up into an engulfing embrace, twirling with her in his arms. Bellamy didn’t move, standing as still as a watch guard on night shift. The creases on his forehead deepened the longer Anya and Gustus embraced. 

Lexa couldn’t focus on him, though; not when she had the stunning view of the blonde. 

Clarke is standing next to him, turning to face Lexa, smiling ear to ear. Lexa could barely breathe. Clarke was wearing a satin floor-length dress with thin straps resting on her freckled shoulders; a plunging neckline that would submit anyone to her beck and call. The color of the dress was a deep shade of red; the kind of red that pools at the base of the lip when you bite too hard, swirling and saturating until it overwhelms the pink lips. Clarke was a vision.

“You’re stunning,” she whispers into the blonde’s ears, sliding a hand to rest on the beauty’s lower back. The dress felt as smooth as it looked. Lexa wanted to keep her hands planted there on Clarke all night, but alas, her brother would surely show his ass then. 

“So are you,” Clarke whispers back into Lexa’s ears; hairs on Lexa’s neck stands to meet Clarke’s breath. 

“You must be the infamous Clarke,” Gustus places himself between Lexa and Clarke, staring down at the blonde. He extends his hand, flashing a smile eerily similar to the one Lexa’s wears. 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Woods,” Clarke accepts his hand, smiling back at the man. The fibers in Lexa’s chest clench, wanting that smile to be for her, only.

“Gustus,” he winks, “I insist.”

Clarke’s eyebrow twitches, creating the perfect horizon above her ocean eyes.

“Happy birthday, Gustus.” Bellamy interjects, now placing himself between his father and Clarke. 

Lexa can recognize the dance between the two sacks of testosterone; a silent conversation happening between the two that would sound like Bell trying to claim Clarke as his own. 

Gustus ignores the smaller man, looking past him to direct his desire to Clarke, “I wish to dance with you at least once tonight, Ms. Clarke.”

Lexa stands there, clenching her jaws and grinding her teeth together; she would have to apologize to her dentist later. 

“Yes sir,” Clarke smiles and winks, “just Clarke.” 

Lexa’s heart lurches at the sight. What the hell was that? Clarke had no idea the type of man she was dealing with… or did she? Lexa shakes her head, grabbing a cocktail from a waiter tray trying to wiz past her. She slams the drink back, never pausing long enough to taste the contents; it could have been bath water for all she knew.

She looks up to see her brother; Bellamy looked mortified by the interaction. His face was doing its best to match the color of Clarke’s dress, with his cheeks puffing as if steam was building pressure beneath. 

“Hey,” she tries to calm him, placing a hand on his forearm, “relax. Remember that nice conversation we had?”

“You’re one to talk,” he jerks his arm from her; Clarke and Gustus oblivious to the childish display. Before Lexa can usher Bellamy from the scene, they are greeted by their mother. 

“My babies!” Becca exclaims as she enters the room looking like an Empress. 

“Darling!” Gustus turns to greet his wife, “You look phenomenal!”

For once, Lexa was grateful to have her mother in the same room. She knew this would buy her some time to get Bellamy under control, or she looked around for her sister, Anya may be better suited. She found the girl next to the shrimp buffet, slurping down shellfish like it was her last meal. It was up to Lexa to calm down her brother; fantastic odds.

*******************************

Clarke didn’t expect to have to entertain herself; all three people she knew there, were occupied doing? Who knows what? One minute she is standing amongst all three and the next, after the appearance of the parents, they scatter. 

At least there was music. She joined an eclectic group of individuals on the sanctioned dance floor; having enough alcohol in her system to numb any nervousness. She wanted Lexa there, so they could dance together again. Clarke could barely remember the last time they danced; it almost felt like a lifetime ago. However, the brunette was still nowhere to be seen. 

As promised, Gustus showed up to claim his dance with Clarke. He was a large, muscular man towering over Clarke, making her feel small in his arms. She tried to sturdy herself, squaring her shoulders and holding her posture. She really wanted to make a good impression on him; after all, she was spending most of her time with his offspring. 

“Becca tells me you’re an artist,” Gustus says to her, twirling her once. She could see where Lexa got her ability to dance.

“I am,” Clarke smiles, “You have a lovely home here.” 

She didn’t want the conversation to remain on her; it lowered her chances of sounding silly or pretentious. 

“I would love to see your work,” He bulldozes past her compliment, clearly taking the driver’s seat for this conversation. He closes some of the distance between them, dropping his hand on her back, a little lower than Clarke preferred. She decided his intentions were pure since Becca was standing in the room, watching them. Surely he wouldn’t be so bold?

“Sure,” she doesn’t know how else to answer, “Anytime.” It was difficult to discern his motive and Clarke didn’t want to offend him out of respect for her friends. 

The tempo of the music begins to slow, signaling a more romantic atmosphere. Clarke tries to part but Gustus pouts his lip, whimpering that he wants to continue dancing. She complies and he takes her into his arms once more, barely leaving any space between them. She can smell similar notes of sandalwood; thoughts of Lexa flooded her mind. Clarke wished it were Lexa dancing with her now. 

She glances over her partner’s shoulder in time to see Lexa and Bellamy entering the room. When blue meets green, Clarke sees a fire igniting, burning the forest in Lexa’s eyes. 

********************************************

Seeing Clarke in Gustus’ arms made Lexa’s stomach flip. The reaction was so instant that she nearly grabbed her sides for comfort; thankfully, she managed to remain still. Bellamy, however, was not as steady. She caught him by the shoulder, refusing to let him march up to their father. 

“Do not make a scene,” Lexa hisses, grabbing the back of his head, pressing their noses together, “Clarke is not yours.” She is mine, Lexa thinks briefly before shaking the thought. Where did that come from?

“I know that, but he is just going to use her, Lex.” He nearly cries, “I care about her.”

Lexa needed Anya to get her head out of the buffet. The longer she watched Gustus touch Clarke, the less resolve she had to keep from knocking him out before Bellamy got the chance. Lexa was certain she could remain calm as long as they are where everyone can see them, but if she knew Gustus, she could expect the man to try to take Clarke somewhere private. Would Clarke be willing to go? The possibility caused Lexa’s heart to clench once more. 

As if on cue, Gustus makes his move to lead Clarke from the dancefloor. Lexa anticipates his next location, beating them there. When he sees her standing there, first his eyebrow raises and his eyes search hers, looking for an explanation. But his concern settles, knowing that Lexa has never stood in his way before.

“Hey, Lex” He grins, “I’m showing your friend the gallery. So if you’ll excuse—us”

“No,” Lexa blocks his path. 

“Lexa, don’t be rude.” He lowers his voice.  
“Clarke is already called for,” Lexa keeps her focus on Gustus.

“Excuse me?” Lexa hears Clarke’s voice over the throbbing heartbeat beating into her eardrums. 

“By Bell,” Gustus laughs, “I’m not concerned.”

“No,” Lexa says calmly.

“Hold on,” Clarke steps between them, forcing Lexa to stare into her eyes, “First of all, no one has claim over me. Second, your dad was just showing me the gallery.”

“Don’t be naïve, Clarke,” Lexa barks. 

Clarke’s eyebrow raises and she turns to Gustus, “Were you planning on something more, sir?”

Gustus stretches his back, yawning, “yea, this is getting old. Have fun, Lexa.” He walks away, likely scoping out his next adventure, Lexa thinks. Now she has a fuming blonde to tend to, one with a blue, flaming vortex in her eyes. 

“Sorry about that— l”

“What the actual fuck, Lexa.” Clarke steps back, pacing between Lexa and the staircase. 

“It’s a long story but our dad gets around,” Lexa tries to explain.

“Not that,” Clarke holds up her hand, flittering it about, “What is this claiming me bullshit? Was that just a ploy or are you suddenly interested in me as a person now?”

“Wait,” Lexa flinches, “as a person?”

“Like I’m yours, something more than casual,” Clarke’s voice shakes.

“Clarke,”

“No, don’t say my name like that unless I actually mean something to you.” Clarke steps back, placing both hands on her hips. 

Lexa’s head was fuzzy and her heart was racing; sweat pooling in her palms. She blinks back the hot tears forming in her eyes, she didn’t want this conversation to happen this way, “I care about you, to the point it terrifies me, Clarke.” She covers her mouth, realizing she nearly shouted the last part. 

“I knew it,” Bellamy growls. 

“Bell,” Lexa tries but he is already turning from them, running.  
“Shit,” Lexa sighs. 

“What is happening?” Clarke starts walking towards the direction Bellamy ran, “What is wrong with Bell?”

“Clarke,” Lexa stands up straight, looking at the blonde, “We haven’t been completely honest with you.”

Clarke’s eyebrows pinch together, her mouth slowly parting into an oval shape. She maintains this expression throughout Lexa’s attempt to explain and divulge all the things that transpired over the last few months. It was difficult to get some of the words out as she watched the angry and hurt expressions flashing across the blonde’s face. 

“I see,” Clarke whispers. 

“You have every right to be upset.” Lexa reaches out, hoping to touch Clarke but the girl steps out of reach. 

“I’m going to call a Lyft home,” Clarke’s voice cracks, then turns her back on Lexa, walking toward the front of the house. 

“Clarke,” Lexa calls out to her. 

The blonde turns to look at her, “Lexa, I just need some time to process things, okay?” 

Lexa nods. She knew this would take some time to process. Hell, she didn’t have everything worked out herself, but right now she didn’t have time for herself. She needed to find Bellamy. She needed to find him quickly before he did something stupid. 

“Shrimp?” Anya pops up behind Lexa, offering her some from the plate she was carrying.

“You have excellent timing, you know that?” Lexa gruffs. 

“Sheesh, who pissed in your snacks?”


	24. Voices

“Stop laughing,” Clarke groans, rubbing her temples in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure building there.

Clarke barely got any sleep through the night. Her mind insisted on replaying the night’s events; particularly the one where Lexa dropped the mother of all truth-bombs. 

“I’m sorry,” Raven sputters out a few more giggles, gripping her sides, “How did you manage to end up in a love triangle with an entire family?”

This was the same question Clarke asked herself over and over. She couldn’t discern whether she was more upset with Lexa or Bellamy; probably Bellamy. He was supposed to be one of her best friends. Did they not have a conversation where they agreed they were only friends? Or did Clarke imagine that? He lied to her face, for what? She wondered what type of environment she created that made him feel like he couldn’t be honest with her. 

“Excellent question, Raven.” 

Clarke rests her head on the bar; slowly twisting in the bar stool hoping that she could lull herself into a stupor. She just wanted her brain to turn off for a few moments. She glanced up, meeting Raven’s gaze; the girl offered her a sympathetic smile. 

Then there was Lexa; the person Clarke couldn’t seem to shake from her bones. The girl had a way of infiltrating all of Clarke’s creative works; mostly in the forms of greens. She was finally opening up to the idea of being something more, but now, Clarke couldn’t imagine trusting the brunette. She wanted to. Part of her knew that Lexa was honoring her brother and she would likely have done the same, but another part, the vulnerable and scared part of her, wanted to tuck itself away into the further corners of Clarke’s core. 

“Have you tried painting?”

Clarke was starting to wonder if Raven had the ability to read minds, “I mean it’s only been a few hours…so, no.”

“Your emotions are raw right now,” Raven pats Clarke’s back, “I think you’ll find it helpful.”

She didn’t disagree but finding the motivation to sit upright was proving to be the greatest feat. Reminding herself that this was all temporary and she would be grateful for the opportunity to use such raw intensity to create; Clarke knew she had to push through it. Pressing her hands on the bar, she pushed herself back and hopped off the stool, “you’re right.”

She stomped past Raven. She wasn’t going to give herself the chance to lose this fabricated momentum. Upon entering the studio, she pulled out the canvas with saturated blacks, browns, greys, and greens. She could see a familiar profile working perfectly with this piece. She pushed her hair back, tying it into a mess of a bun atop her head, and then grabbed her tools to start making this profile come to life.

******************************************

Lexa hears the sharp latch of the front door unlock; Bellamy was home. Anya and Lexa stayed up most of the night, driving around town to locate their big brother to no avail. 

“Bell?” Anya’s voice was smooth, steady; as if she were approaching a snarling dog. 

“Where is she?” Bellamy’s voice quivers; signaling his loss of control.

“I’m right here,” Lexa steps up, trying to mirror Anya’s tone. Bellamy wasn’t a violent person but was prone to emotional breakdowns; the sisters only intended in avoiding emotionally overwhelming him.

“We had an agreement,” he seethes, through his gritted teeth.

“Sit down, Bell.” Lexa commands. 

He shuffles between the balls of his feet, looking between the kitchen and the living room. He must have opted for cozy because he chose a spot on the couch to sink into. Lexa and Anya follow him, careful not to crowd him.

“Listen I know—I” Lexa tries to lead the conversation.

“You’re just like him,” Bellamy trains his eyes on the ground, refusing to look at either sister.

“This is different, Bell, and you know it,” she smooths out her voice, trying to suppress her frustration. 

“Is it, Lexa?” 

She wasn’t going to waste energy defending her action; Bellamy and Clarke were not (and are not) dating. Clarke made her choice and Lexa was not obligated to deny that just because her brother had a crush. She hated disappointing him but also recognized that his actions were selfish; she refused to carry the burden.

“Obviously.”

He spits, standing up abruptly; Anya raises to meet him, “Sit back down.” She presses down on his shoulders, forcing him to sit once more.

“Listen, you’re either going to grow up and realize you’re being selfish,” Lexa leans forward, towards him, “or you’re going to ruin every relationship in your life.”

“Lexa is right.” Anya pipes in, adding, “I know you care for Clarke but you had your chance to be honest with her and chose not to. That isn’t on Lexa.”

“I used the card. We had a deal.” He tries, ignoring their points all together. 

“Bell, that old system is hardly legally binding,” Anya stifles her sniggers. Lexa needed her sister to hold it together; Anya’s sense of humor had terrible timing. 

The card system was something the trio developed early on in their adolescence. It was a way for each of them to hold each other accountable and guarantee loyalty. With parents like Gustus and Becca, you learned the importance of leverage and negotiation. Therefore, they had a proverbial card to pass around amongst the three; the idea being everyone had a chance to use it and you acquired it through the other siblings. 

“Whatever,” He stands, both sisters allowing him to, “I don’t need you at the gym any longer and I don’t want you staying here.”

Lexa blinks; she was expecting something like that to happen. It was her brother’s nature to put as much distance between him and whatever it was that hurt him, “if that’s what you want.”

“It is,” He mumbles, walking towards his bedroom without another word. 

“Shit, what are you going to do?” Anya scrunches her face, curling her lip. 

Lexa shrugs, “I guess go back to New York.”

Lexa anticipated returning to New York; her apartment was there; the company headquarters was there. However, there was something here that made her want to hold off on leaving just a little longer, and if she were honest with herself, she would say it had everything to do with a blue eyed blonde.


	25. Sapiens

“I still think you should talk to Bell,” Anya follows Lexa out to the driveway.

“He needs time,” Lexa stuffs her duffle bag into the back of her Jeep. She took a moment to observe the wall of suitcases that engulfed the cargo; each one carefully placed to maximize the space provided. The corners of her mouth curl up and she nods before slamming the door shut. 

“What about Clarke?” Anya steps in front of Lexa’s path towards the driver’s seat. 

“She needs time, too,” Lexa shuffles past her sister, calling over her shoulder, “I’m not leaving for forever.” She chuckles lightly.

Lexa didn’t want to leave. She wanted to rush over to Clarke’s house, beg for forgiveness, and make everything right again, but life has other plans. She couldn’t count the times she picked up her phone, burning with intention to text the blonde. However, every time she made the attempt, she was reminded by the expression on the girl’s face that night. That image haunted Lexa and forced her to respect Clarke’s request for space.

“Yea,” Anya huffs, breaking Lexa’s train of thought, “the last time it only took you three years to come back.”

Lexa turns to face her sister and is met with worry; Anya’s brows pinched together, pointing towards her pouting mouth. Guilt started rising in her chest; heavy and accusatory. Anya struggled with Lexa’s decision to move to the big city, but they never took the time or effort to properly discuss the decision. Now, Lexa was doing it again; moving away, but this time it wasn’t her choice. 

“I’ll be back soon,” she takes two steps, closing the distance between them to pull Anya into a hug, “I promise.”

In her grip, Lexa can feel the muscles in Anya’s body releasing their clutch on the girl’s rigid frame. She feels her sister’s arms around her waist, squeezing to pull them closer and more tightly together; Lexa breathes out. 

The hum of a car engine breaks her concentration. The brakes make a low hissing sound as the vehicle slowly comes to a stop in their driveway. She looks up to see Clarke in the driver’s seat; lips tight, both hands clenching the steering wheel. Lexa cannot help but smile at the sight. She knows the blonde is angry, the redness pooling on her cheeks tell all, but she was so happy to see Clarke here. It has only been a week since the party, but to Lexa, it might as well been a lifetime.

She looks to her sister, one eyebrow arching until at capacity.

“I may have said something to her,” Anya pulls her lips into her teeth, grinning, before turning to skip into the house. Little shit, Lexa’s thinks to herself; she’ll have to thank her big sister later.

Clarke jerks the door open, hopping out, stomping over to Lexa until they are inches from one another, “Running away, Lex?”

“Not quite,” Lexa smiles.

“Put that smile away,” Clarke’s voice was sharp, “I have a lot to say to you right now.”

Lexa presses her lips together, opening her jaw as her eyes stretch open wider; she was trying to contain her amusement.

“Yes ma’am,” She barely manages before a few chortles managed to sputter from her lips. The glacier stare sobers Lexa. 

“I asked for time, not for you to run away.” The gravel in Clarke’s voice returned, exposing the blonde’s vulnerability.

“I’m not running away.” Lexa whispers as she cautiously reaches out, grabbing Clarke’s wrist to pull her near. 

“I’m still confused about some things,” Clarke looks up, capturing Lexa’s eyes, “but I know that I want you.”

Lexa tucks the girl’s chin, tilting it so that she can gently place a single kiss on the girl’s lips. She pulls back enough to say, “I want you, too. Take all the time you need to figure things out, and I’m available to communicate whenever.”

“How long will you be in New York?”

Lexa knew this answer depended on Clarke’s willingness to work through things, but she didn’t want to pressure the girl one way or another, “I’m not sure, but I can always fly you out to me.” Lexa smiles; thinking about the artist walking the streets of New York.

She observes, watching Clarke chew on the inside of her lip, cracking her knuckles in the process, “okay.”

“Okay?” Lexa confirms. Clarke nods, a smile splitting across her face, nearly blinding Lexa with the glow. 

“Perfect,” Lexa squeaks out in just enough time before their lips are crashing together in an impatient haste to feel each other. 

They stood in the driveway like this for a little while; both pretending that none of their issues or obligations existed. 

*****************************************

Clarke steadies her breathing as she watches Lexa’s departure. Her hand involuntarily rises to her chest, gripping the fabric there, she twists it until aware of her actions.

“Hey,” Anya approaches from behind, placing a hand on Clarke’s back.

“Hey,” Clarke turns to her friend, smiling before pulling her into a quick embrace. “How is Bell?” She mumbles into Anya’s shoulders. 

“Eh,” Anya shrugs, “he is still working through his shit.”

Clarke nods. She hasn’t spoken to Bellamy since the night of that awful party. She didn’t know what to say or even if she wanted to say anything at all. Her heart and mind were at odds, warring over who got dominion over Clarke. 

“I think I would like to talk to him,” Clarke nods towards the house, “Is he in there?”

Anya nods. 

“Can you ask him to come outside?” Clarke decided that she didn’t want to talk to him in an enclosed space. She already felt like walls were caving in on her.

“Yea, one sec.” Anya darts into the house, leaving Clarke to stand in the sun, soaking up the warm rays to calm her nerves. 

Bellamy had become part of Clarke’s normal routine. It was difficult for her to imagine not spending time with the boy; they did most everything together. Well, everything but be honest with one another she thinks to herself. She still couldn’t understand when and how things changed between the two of them. To her, their friendship was clear but obviously Bellamy had a different perspective. Furthermore, she missed the fact he was the type to try and control her. He knew her; he knew she hated being controlled, and yet, still chose to try and make decisions for her. For what? For his own sake?

Clarke took a couple deep breathes; in for ten seconds, hold, out for ten seconds, hold. She needed to center herself before facing him; otherwise, she may strangle him. 

Clarke turns toward the door at the sound of the handle unlatching, but is surprised to see Anya once more. 

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.” Clarke didn’t have to wait for Anya’s explanation; she could read it all over the girl’s expression. Anya was never good at hiding her emotions and the straight line in her lips and the scowl growing above her eyes made it very clear; Bellamy would not talk to Clarke.

“He is really emotionally,” Anya tries to defend him but Clarke isn’t the mood. She holds up her hand to stop Anya.

“He did this,” Clarke snarls. Maybe she needed to take more time; clearly her emotions were still raw.

“You’re right,” Anya agrees but adds, “but he still needs time. He will come around.”

“Alright,” Clarke breathes in deeply, holding it for a couple beats before forcing it out from her nostrils, “guess I’ll go home then.”

“I have to go into work now but let’s hang out soon, yea?” Anya rubs Clarke’s shoulders, the gesture easing the concern building up in Clarke’s neck.

“Yes, please.”


	26. Feathers

New York never stopped moving. This was always Lexa’s favorite thing about the place; that and the views. This city allowed her to explore every beck and call of her heart’s desire. Growing up, she often got in trouble for her unwillingness to stay in one spot; adventure drove her. Becca tried to enroll Lexa into extracurricular activities to help curb the child’s energy. All this ended up doing was teach Lexa new ways to fill her time; something about idle time made her feel inadequate, lazy. 

She sat in the bay window, a large yellow pillow supporting her back as she leans back, counting the blinking lights on passerby planes. Getting to see the view from her apartment, at this time of the evening, didn’t happen often. She sipped her warm chamomile tea, enjoying the sweet notes of honey settling on her tongue.

“Have a good evening, Ms. Woods,” the housekeep called out before closing the door.

“Thanks, you too!” She rushed to say before the door could close.

Normally, Lexa would already be gone for the evening before the housekeeper was finished. But these past few weeks, she has steadied herself to staying in. A buzzing on her phone brings a creasing smile to her face.

“You’re five minutes late,” She teases. 

Clarke and Lexa had a standing, daily phone chat in the evenings. 

“I know. “Clarke sighs into the phone, “forgive me?”

“How are you going to make it up to me?” Lexa twirls her hair; these phone calls with Clarke made her feel like a teenager again. 

“Well,” Clarke’s voice hums, “would a trip to see you do the trick?”

Lexa stands up from her comfy place by the window, setting her tea mug on the counter, “Seriously?” 

“Yea,” Clarke laughs, “If you still want that.”

“Of course! Let me text my travel agent,” Lexa pulls the phone from ear, preparing to type a message to Monty. She vaguely hears Clarke’s voice through the speaker, “What was that?”

“I said that you don’t have to do that, Lexa. I can manage my own flight.”

“Nonsense; Let me handle it.”

“Do you even know when I can come?” Clarke chuckles.

“Ah, well. I guess I don’t.” Lexa’s cheeks redden; she was ready to have the blonde in her apartment by tomorrow evening.

“Is this weekend too soon of a notice?”

Lexa grins down at the phone in her hand, putting it back to her ear. 

“Not at all,” She whispers. “I’ll send you the ticket information as soon as I get it from Monty.”

“Perfect,” Clarke squeals, “I’m excited to see you.”

“Me too,” Lexa was already compiling a mental list of things she wanted Clarke to experience in the city.

“Good, you better be. I hate to get off here early but I am trying to work through a stubborn piece. The client is expecting it by tomorrow…I’m going to be up all night.”

“Good luck and sweet dreams if you get to sleep.”

“Good night, Lex.”

Talking to Clarke had a way of making Lexa feel complete and lonely all at once. Once the conversation ends, Lexa sits in the vast apartment, alone. To distract herself, she grabs her laptop to type out an email to Monty; this would be more thorough than a text. She didn’t know when Clarke planned to leave so she asked him to focus only on getting her out her at the best time possible; they could arrange departure at another time. 

*************************************************

Nearly four weeks since the party and Bellamy was still avoiding Clarke. She still attended Jiu Jitsu classes but he either ignored her entirely or would substitute one of the trainers to teach the class. It made zero sense; Clarke should be the angry one, but she didn’t want to harbor those feelings any longer. She wanted her friend back.

“Bell,” she tries to catch him after class. 

“If you have a question about training, you can ask one of the others.” He responds, a professional tone masking his discomfort. 

“How long are you going to avoid me?” She reaches out, catching his arm. He stops to look at her, sadness filling the kaleidoscope of brown and amber in his eyes. 

“I don’t know what to say, Clarke.” He sighs, “and I’m afraid I’ll say something I’ll regret.”

“So you’re just going to act like I don’t exist or that our friendship is disposable?”

This caught his attention. His eyes narrowed, searching Clarke’s eyes for permission to run once more. She wasn’t going to let him get away with it; enough time has passed.

“Are you still talking to Lexa?” He wasted no time getting to the point; he was always an offensive opponent on the mats. 

“I’m not sure what that has to do with you and me.” Clarke rests her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest.

“Everything, Clarke. You were hooking up with my baby sister behind my back!” He looks around as if he just remembered they were in a public setting, lowering his voice, “You can’t expect me to just get over that.”

“First off, I wasn’t sneaking.” She lifts a second finger, “Second, you didn’t say that your sister was off limits, and” She holds up three fingers now, “lastly, you never told me how you truly felt.”

“Yea, well” he runs out of steam, his shoulders slouch, “I thought it was obvious.”

“Yea, well” she mocks him, “It wasn’t and we’re adults, remember? Adults communicate.” Both of her hands are up now, clapping.

He sits down on the bench nearest to them, slumping against the wall for support. Clarke joins him. 

“I miss you, Bell.”

“I miss you, too.” He props his chin into his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. Clarke rubs his back.  
“Then can we go back to being friends? I have so much to vent about.” She sputters out a few giggles, feeling relieved to be communicating with him again.

“Are you still involved with my sister?” Bellamy turns to face her when asking this question. She can feel him holding his breath. 

“Yes,” She removes her hand, sitting it back in her lap. 

He redirects his focus ahead of him, on the wall with one of Clarke’s custom pieces hanging from it. She always made a custom piece for her friend for any holidays, including his birthdays; he used several to decorate the gym. It made the place feel more like home to Clarke to see her work hanging from the walls, creating a mood for the students.

“So you two are dating?” He turns to look at her again, his face scrunched. 

“Kind of,” Clarke muses, “we’re taking it slowly.”

She wished he hadn’t asked this question. Sure, on paper, Lexa and Clarke were technically dating but the two have not discussed anything of the sort. She was still trying to come to terms with the possibility of commitment and didn’t need Bellamy trying to immediately label things.

“Yea,” he scoffs.

She stands abruptly; catching him off guard, he flinches, recoiling from her. 

“Look, either get your head out of your ass and be my friend or I’m done.” She tries not to break her composure, looking at the pain dwelling in him, “You’re lucky I am even giving you another chance, Bell.”

“I’ll try,” his voice cuts through the tension, “but talking about Lexa is off limits for now. Okay? I am not ready to think about that yet.”

“Fine, but I’m not going to lie about things... so keep that in mind.”

“Fair enough.”

“Deal. Now you should go thank your sister Anya because she is the main reason I’m even willing to talk to your stupid ass.”

He laughs, running a hand through his greasy hair, “Yea she has always been my rock.”


	27. I Forgot

Waves of blondes, reds, and browns pass by Lexa, leaving her standing amongst the flurry. She kept her eyes trained on the arrival terminal. Clarke’s plane landed not long ago and Lexa was anxious to feel the girl’s touch again. She thought about all the ways she was going to show the blonde how much she missed her. Lexa shifts weight on her heels, trying to discretely situate her briefs.

Finally, a top knot bun bouncing amongst the crowd beckons to Lexa; she knew it was Clarke. The blonde tendrils bounced and fell around the girl’s face and neck. The corners of Lexa’s mouth twist upward, forcing her lips open, exposing all of her teeth. Clarke mirrors the expression, running up to Lexa. She braces for the impact, lifting Clarke once the girl’s arms wrap around her neck. Memories of their nights together flood her mind once the lavender and vanilla notes meet her inhale. 

Lexa sets Clarke’s feet back to the ground but they remain embraced; Clarke’s nose and mouth flush against Lexa’s neck. She lightly kisses the top of her head. She feels the girl in her arms shift, looking up at her. She meets the gaze before placing soft kisses against the blonde’s lips. Clarke sighs into the kiss before opening her mouth, an adventurous tongue exploring Lexa’s. 

“Let’s save this for a more,” Lexa pulls back, looking at the people surrounding them, “private setting.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow, a single corner of her mouth turns upwards, “let em watch,” she teases. 

“Is that all your bags?” Lexa counts three, all different colors and patterns; of course Clarke would have a hodge-podge of luggage. 

“Yes ma’am,” Clarke grins as if she were keeping a secret.

Lexa takes two of the bags into her hands, leaving the one with wheels for Clarke to pull. The bags were no heavier than a set of twenty pound dumbbells, Lexa thought; she wondered how many days her company planned to stay. She hoped it wasn’t a brief visit. 

“What happened to your Jeep?” Clarke jerks her head towards Lexa, brows furrowed, eyes wide.

“Oh,” Lexa blinks, casually explaining, “It’s in a garage. I don’t typically drive in the city.”

She notices a passing look in Clarke’s eyes; a cloud brewing only to be blown away by a forceful wind. She wanted to understand the change but the natural sounds of the city broke her focus, “Hop in, it should only take us about twenty minutes to get to my place.”

Lexa slides into the backseat behind Clarke, signaling to her driver that they were ready to head home. She is amused to turn, finding Clarke’s face pressed against the tinted windows. There was no doubt the blue irises were doing their best to absorb and interpret the many colors and angles in the city. She wondered what a place like this would look like to an artist; maybe Clarke would share that with her someday, but something like that felt very personal to Lexa. 

*****************************************

The city never ceased to impress her. Clarke has visited it more than once; each time she walked away with enough inspiration for an entire collection. She hoped this trip would do the same. It was hard not to imagine it doing so since this would be her first time experiencing this place with a particular muse. 

Without looking from the window, she reaches out to place her hand on the brunette’s thigh, slightly squeezing upon contact. The gesture was supposed to be light, but feeling the girl shift under her touch tore Clarke’s attention from the scenery. She liked knowing that her touches affected Lexa; the girl was hard to read sometimes but in these moments, her thoughts were loud. 

“Does this count for more,” Clarke whispers into Lexa’s neck, dragging her hand up the girl’s thigh, “private?”

A squeal escapes her lips when the brunette grips her sides, pulling Clarke into her lap. She twists her fingers into the golden tinted, chestnut hair pulling Lexa’s face closer to her own; her lips just above the other girl’s. Goosebumps travel up her neck when Lexa takes control, pressing their lips and tongues together as she gripped tighter on Clarke’s hips. 

“I guess this answers my question,” She giggles against Lexa’s lips.

“Shh,” the brunette playfully presses an index finger against Clarke’s mouth, “less talking, more kissing.”

“We’ve arrived, Ms. Woods,” the baritone voice of the driver travels to the back, smothering the tension between the two women.

“Thank you, Titus.” 

Clarke shifts her weight, rolling back into her seat, “Thank you.” She mirrors Lexa’s courtesy, trying to ignore the burning sensation in her cheeks. 

Walking into the towering apartment complex, Clarke finds it difficult to see this as Lexa’s home. It was cold in the building, littered with employees and gold accents. This was in complete contrast with the blue tones and comforts that Anya and Bellamy’s home has. This place was structured, rigid, where Bellamy’s home was soft and welcoming. Maybe she was projecting but Clarke could swear that Lexa’s own demeanor matched that of the building upon stepping inside. 

They pile onto the elevator. She notices that there are only two buttons; Lexa selects the second. They stand, facing the doors as the elevator ascends. If her timing is correct, Clarke can tell that they are going to the top or pretty damn close to it.

“Ding” the elevator rings, signaling they have arrived. 

The doors open to a gorgeous studio. Depth perception was not Clarke’s strongest skill but she felt like the apartment was the same square footage as her own house. She has never seen an apartment that size before; the bare walls and modern accents made the space look more expansive and lonely, she thought.

She follows Lexa around the suite, placing her bags onto the bed. 

“You can place your stuff in those,” Lexa points to a dresser set. 

Clarke stares at the wooden dressers with a dark metal bordering the corners. It was a beautiful display of craftsmanship and splendor. She reached out, pressing her hand against the wood, feeling the grooves and textures beneath, “which ones are available?” She casts the question over her shoulder to Lexa.

“All of them,” Lexa’s voice is flat.

All of them? Clarke pulls on the handles of each drawer; sure enough, they were all empty. 

“Where do you keep your clothes?” Clarke looks around to locate another dresser or closet. 

“In my apartment.” 

“You say that like this isn’t your apartment,” Clarke stands, hands on hips, facing Lexa.

“Technically, it is but I live in the penthouse just above. This is my guest apartment.”

Clarke slowly closed her eyes, squeezing them shut before opening again. Maybe she heard that wrong, “you are putting me up in a guest apartment?”

“Yea,” Lexa tilts her head, “is there something wrong?”

“Lexa,” Clarke laughs, “I came here for you.”

“I know that,” Lexa straightens, correcting her posture, “which is why I’m providing you this space. I didn’t know how long you intended to stay, so I uh,” Lexa points towards the east side of the apartment, “purchased some art supplies for you to work.”

“Uh,” Clarke cleared her throat, “thank you.”

She didn’t know what to say. Clarke didn’t like attaching expectations to anything, but she surely didn’t see this coming. Lexa wasn’t playing around when she said she didn’t do sleep overs. This realization made the muscles in Clarke’s chest tighten. Had Clarke misinterpreted their confessions at the party? Clarke knew she wanted something serious and more stable with Lexa and up until this moment, thought the brunette wanted the same. But here she was, just like any other guest of Lexa’s. Guest; that word suddenly placing a bitter taste in her mouth.

“I’m sure you would love to freshen up,” Lexa walks up to Clarke, wrapping her in familiar arms, “I’ll let you shower, get dressed, then we can go to dinner. Yea?”

Clarke pushed down her feelings, similar to applying pressure to a pillow too big for the sham, “Yea.” She smiles, “I’ll text you when I’m finished up.”

“Excellent,” Lexa kisses her lips, “I’m happy you’re here.”

Clarke gives her a genuine smile; it was nice to hear those words even if this situation was confusing.


	28. In my Arms

She didn’t need much time to freshen up. However, Clarke decided it would be wise to utilize some of the privacy. She wasn’t ready to see Lexa just yet; she was still reeling over having to sleep in separate quarters. Walking over to the bed, Clarke digs out her phone from her purse. 

“Missing me already?” Raven’s voice cuts through the silence in the large suite, bouncing from the bare walls.

“Always.” Clarke smiles, already feeling better from hearing her friend’s voice.

“So what’s wrong, Griffy? Why aren’t you under your Nike princess?” 

Air bursts through Clarke’s nostrils in one, snapping breath, “She has a guest apartment.”

“She has a lot of money. You already knew this.” 

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Clarke continues, “She is having me stay in the guest apartment rather than us sleeping over together.”

“She did not!” Someone other than Raven shouted. 

Clarke pulls the phone from her ear, looking at it to check the name on the phone; Raven. Yep, she called the correct person, but who was that in the background?

“Is that Anya?” Clarke squints.

“Yea, hold on.” Raven covers the phone, directing her next comment to her company, “will you hush?”

“I don’t mind if Anya hears. In fact, she may have some useful insight.” Clarke crawls into the queen sized bed, sinking deep inside the white, down pillows and comforter. 

“Alright, let me put you on speaker then.”

“Okay. So, I know we haven’t explicitly said anything about labels or expectations, but am I crazy for thinking we would be able to sleep in bed together?” Clarke chews on the inside of her lip, opening old wounds there.

“I think it’s crazy she has you in a guest suite, but Anya knows her so…”

Anya’s voice picks up where Raven’s leaves, “Try not to take it personally, Clarke. Lexa doesn’t assume anything and having sleepovers is something she has never done. You’re going to have to talk to her about it. But…” Anya clears her throat, “I want you to figure out your shit first before you do.”

Clarke’s forehead wrinkles, “What do you mean?”

“I’ve got it from here,” Raven takes over the phone, “You’re not Ms. Commitment and sleepovers are pretty serious. So what Anya is trying to say, and I agree, that you need to make sure you actually want something serious with Lexa. Because if you don’t, then what does it matter that you’re sleeping in a guest suite?”

“Jesus,” Clarke laughs, “alright, I can’t argue with that. Thanks, this was helpful.”

“Good, because if you tried to argue I was going to hit you with the ‘don’t be an Abby Griffin,’” Raven giggles.

“Alright, I’m hanging up now. Love you.” Clarke hits end on the phone before tossing it to the foot of the bed. 

The last thing she needed was a comparison to her mother; Abby was the queen of fleeting and changing expectations. Her mother expected everyone to read her mind and be on the same page at all times. It makes navigating a relationship with the woman very difficult. Clarke only knew one person that could handle Abby and that person no longer exists. 

Clarke decided Lexa deserved better than that. She stretched across the bed, reaching her phone to text her date.

Clarke: Ready! 

Lexa doesn’t reply. Instead, Clarke hears a ding on the elevator and when the door opens, there stands the source of all of her fantasies. Standing in a burgundy, Armani suit Lexa looked flawless. Her hair curved and accentuated the girl’s jawline; the mane rested against her shoulders, heightening the woman’s muscular frame. 

“Ready?” The goddess speaks.

Clarke cannot peel her eyes from the legs carrying the brunette towards her. Underneath the cotton blend, she can see Lexa’s thigh flexing with every step closer; she swallows the desire building in her throat. She has never before been more jealous of a garment; she wanted to hug every inch of the woman.

“You look amazing,” Lexa whispers into Clarke’s ear. 

“You’re perfection,” Clarke sighs, stepping back to get another view. 

“C’mon,” Lexa pulls on Clarke’s hand, leading her to the elevators, “I have so many places to show you.”

Clarke grinned; how could one person be so sexy and cute at the same time?

**********************************************

One of Lexa’s favorite places to eat was a hole in the wall sandwich shop. Technically, it was a butcher shop but they made the best pastrami sandwich to ever touch her taste buds. To top it off, there was a little known nook that allowed a sense of privacy in a big city; these spots made time slow down for her.

“We’re a little over dressed,” Clarke laughs; her tipsy showing itself. 

Earlier they spent some time at a few galleries downtown, and the two helped themselves to a few drinks. Lexa looks at the girl before her, taking every moment to appreciate the girl’s curves. In a yellow evening dress, Clarke looked like a muse from Hercules. She loved seeing this elegance in contrast to the greasy, meat shop; it reminded her how much the girl outshined everything around her, brightening Lexa’s world.

“You’re perfect,” Lexa slips, “let’s eat!” She covers, quickly calling out her order. She looks to Clarke, watching the girl intently focusing on the menu before requesting her own order; which ended up being identical to Lexa’s.

“How original,” Lexa teases.

Clarke pokes Lexa’s sides, “It’s my favorite, too.”

“Mhmm,” Lexa purses her lips, slightly lifting her chin to look down her nose at Clarke. In response, Clarke furrows her brows, sticking out her tongue at Lexa. 

Once receiving their sandwiches, they squeeze past the inventory boxes to sit at the small table in the back. It was a wire, patio table shoved in the furthest corner of the restaurant, which was the size of a closet itself. Lexa was pretty sure rust gets on your clothes every time you sit but that didn’t matter; clothes can be replaced, serenity is hard to come by. 

“How did you find this place?” Clarke’s raspy register, lower now from the alcohol, lands on Lexa like a bird on a branch. 

“I’m always searching for tiny treasures,” Lexa stuffs the sandwich into her mouth. Normally, she didn’t eat greasy foods but this sandwich was the exception; she also didn’t bring girls here but Clarke is an exception.

“Do you realize this is our first official date?” Clarke bites her lower lip, picking at the bread of her sandwich. 

The thought crossed her mind but she was afraid to label it; didn’t want to put any pressure on the blonde, “Well look at that.” She smiles, leaning across the table to kiss the girl, “thoughts?”

She watched the grin slowly spreading on her date’s face, “Well, it’s not over yet.” Her heart skipped in unison with the wink Clarke flashes. 

“Tell me more about you,” Lexa bites down another bite of her pastrami. 

“Hmm… I got as far as med school before dropping out to pursue art.”

“Wow, how did that go over?”

“Oh, you know,” Clarke takes a sliver of pastrami from her place, plucking it in her mouth, “I’m still dealing with my mother’s disappointment."

“Seriously? But you’re very successful,” Lexa takes her finger, wiping off some sauce from the blonde’s lips. Clarke scrunches up the bridge of her nose and brow line. 

“Doesn’t matter, but enough of that. Tell me something about you…” Clarke’s eyebrow twitches.

“I’ve never broken a bone,” Lexa grins.

Clarke sputters out some giggles, “Oh come on, something more than that.”

“Hey, if you knew me as a kid you would be shocked to hear that!” Lexa sticks out her tongue at the blonde.

“Hmm,” Lexa considers aloud, “I’m not close to my mom.”

“I kind of noticed that,” Clarke rubs Lexa’s knuckles that were resting on the wire table. “Why is that?” she continues.

“A mixture of things, I’m sure, but mostly because I remind her of my dad too much,” Lexa laughs but more from frustration than humor. Seeing the confusion dance across Clarke’s face, Lexa continues, “Their relationship is more about status and benefit rather than love. So, my mom isn’t my dad’s biggest fan and therefore, distances herself from his likeness. I was also a rowdy kid so there was that, too.”

“She is wrong,” Clarke’s eyes ignite, a flame evaporating the oceans there, “you’re nothing like him. How could she think something like that?”

Lexa blinks, swallowing the emotions threatening to burst from her; Clarke was the first person to say this to her. 

“Sure, I only met him once but it became very clear that man only cares about himself. Lexa, there is so much more to you and you, you” Clarke searches green, “are the most thoughtful and respectful person I’ve ever met.”

“I appreciate that, Clarke…more than you know.” She smiles at the girl sitting across from her, wanting nothing more to take her into her arms and kiss her. 

They spend a couple hours sitting in that shop, laughing and swapping embarrassing childhood stories until closing time.

“Looks like we’re being kicked out,” Lexa nods towards the little, old lady vigorously cleaning the table they’re sitting at.

“What makes you think that?” Clarke teases when the lady grabs her half-eaten sandwich from her, dropping it into the trash bin. 

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” Lexa extends her hand to Clarke, intertwining their fingers to lead the girl outside the building.

“Your place or mine?” Clarke teases.


	29. Don't Wake up Lonely

Lexa counted eleven, twelve, and thirteen as she traced the freckles peppering Clarke’s back. Her hand floated with every slow inhale the blonde made; an occasional ragged breath would insert itself, causing Lexa to rub the girl’s back. A glance at the clock told her it was half past two; it was time for her head back to her own bed. 

“mmhsfg, no” Clarke mumbles when Lexa shifts the girl’s weight to the bed. Clarke had been resting atop of Lexa; a frequent position the blonde would take. 

“Sweet dreams,” Lexa places a delicate kiss to the girl’s forehead, tasting honey at the contact. She enjoyed how Clarke always tasted and smelled like a meadow of flowers. Lexa let her lips linger for a moment longer before returning to her suite. 

As the elevator doors closed, Lexa absorbed the view of Clarke lying in the bed with thin sheets covering her, a single bare leg exposed. Even in sleep the blonde had an elegance about her, Lexa thought just as the doors came to a close. 

Her old friend insomnia stopped by for a visit, just as she settled into her expensive sheets. Lying in bed with Clarke was peaceful and nearly lulled Lexa into a stupor, but here, on her king sized mattress, she simply stared at the ceilings. 

Knowing any effort to sleep was futile, she made her way to the kitchen, pouring water into her tea kettle. She twisted the knob for her gas burner, igniting a flame to set the kettle onto. Lexa was accustomed to this routine. The responsibilities of running an entire company had a habit of wearing on her every waking thought. If it isn’t concern for her many employees and their well-being then it was about the company itself and keeping up with her father’s legacy; she carried this burden for perfection.

She stared at the blue, orange, and yellow colors dancing around the cast iron, remembering a similar display in the blonde’s eyes. Part of her envied Clarke’s lack of tethering; it must be nice to live in a world where a set of rules and obligations didn’t loom over your every move. 

Lexa’s entire life consisted of these expectations and she took all of her obligations seriously; this was her reasoning for not getting romantically involved with someone. If she slept over and feelings started developing, then there would be an inevitable set of new obligations stacked on top of Lexa’s normal ones. The thought was overwhelming. Gustus taught her that relationships were about opportunity and strategy; romance was meant to be fleeting and frequent, not binding. She didn’t grow up witnessing a fairytale romance and therefore, never expected one for herself. However, a particular blonde had her thinking more about forever.

Tonight’s insomnia brought more baggage with it, implying it intended on staying for a long while. She poured the boiling water over the chamomile tea leaves, inhaling the steam containing notes of apple, mellow, and honey; soothing the tension in Lexa’s temples. Bellamy was on her mind. She was conflicted, knowing he needed to grow up but she also felt guilty for having hurt him. It has been about a month now since everything came to head, and Lexa was wrestling with being the first to reach out. 

Maybe it was the fatigue driving her actions but Lexa decided she would text her brother. She stomped over to her phone typing out the first thing she could think of.

Lexa: Are you finished being a brat now? 

She hit send before talking herself out of it. Her message probably wasn’t the best but it was on par with how the siblings always spoke to one another. Read, but no ellipses indicating he was replying. Well, at least she knew he was having trouble sleeping too. She didn’t regret sending him a message. The ball was in his court now and she was fine giving him that space. 

Her mission now was to fall asleep within a reasonable amount of time. She had a big day planned for Clarke and wanted to be as alert and energized as possible. 

************

Clarke stretched her arms above head, twisting her torso to relieve some tension in her lower back. She had to give it to Lexa, this guest suite had an amazing bed; it felt like sleeping on clouds. She made a mental note to get the brand names for the sheets and mattress; her own bedroom could use an upgrade. 

The sharpness of the cold, tile flooring helped Clarke wake up. Next to the bed was a new set of house shoes, if the tag on the side was any indication, but Clarke ignores them, pattering her feet across the floors to reach the kitchen. She barely tolerated wearing socks and definitely wasn’t prone to wearing slippers of any sort; she wanted her feet to have room to breathe.

Clarke wanted to check the kitchen for supplies. She was hungry after eating a small portion of dinner; Clarke didn’t have the heart to tell Lexa that the sandwich was a bit too greasy and fatty for her taste. So, she picked around on the plate, hoping her charm and conversation skills would distract the brunette from noticing.

She swung open the refrigerator door, and sure enough, it was fully stocked. Lexa thought of everything, Clarke muses. Up front was a tub of Greek yogurt, Clarke’s favorite brand; Lexa must have noticed the stock in Clarke’s own kitchen. She grabs it and the box of blackberries. She searched the counters until her eyes landed on a tube of honey. Excited, she skipped over to grab a spoon, wasting no time to scoop out a healthy serving of yogurt, dumping the blackberries and honey on top. 

Mouth full and licking the spoon, Clarke is surprised to hear the ding of the elevator. She knew it had to be late when Lexa finally went to her room; she wasn’t expecting the brunette to be awake this early. 

“Good morning,” she manages through her haste to swallow the berries and yogurt.

“Good morning,” Lexa beams, strutting up to the counter, sitting next to Clarke, “I see you’ve already got breakfast taken care of.”

Redness travels up Clarke’s neck, “I, uh, didn’t know when you would be awake.”

“Please, help yourself.” Lexa stretches her arms outward, spanning towards the cupboards and appliances, “this is all for you for as long as you are here.”

Clarke noted twice now that Lexa brought up the duration of her stay. Admittedly, Clarke didn’t think that far ahead but was starting to concern herself with not overstaying her welcome, “Thank you, Lexa. Speaking of…” She wasn’t sure what would be an appropriate amount of time would be. Is another weekend too much? Too soon to leave this weekend? It would help if she knew what Lexa wanted.

“Yes?” Lexa prompts Clarke to finish her thought.

“Oh,” Clarke shakes her head, smiling, “um, I think I should head home after a few more days.”

She notices the fall in Lexa’s smile but the brunette recovered quickly, “Not a problem, do you have a preference for departure on Friday verses Saturday?”

Clarke shakes her head, “anytime is fine.”

“Excellent, I’ll have Monty take care of it.”

“Thanks,” Clarke smiles, reaching out to squeeze Lexa’s thigh. 

It was unclear if her decision was favorable to Lexa but Clarke hoped it was neutral enough. Spending the next few days together should give them both enough time to figure out what they’re doing here.

*******

Their day and evening was successful. The entire day felt like one big date and Lexa found herself only wanting more. Seeing the quiet, silly, thoughtful moments in Clarke felt like a privilege, like a secret only shared between two. 

Lexa’s favorite moments of the day were watching the blonde getting distracted by any and every vibrant thing. A running joke started forming in her mind by all of the accounts of Clarke dazing off into the distance, undoubtedly imagining all the colors she could spill onto a canvas. Lexa enjoyed her own view; Clarke bathed in the hustle and bustle of a restless city. Somehow, the blonde made time slow down just like Lexa’s favorite corners and hidden nooks. 

Daylight turned to dusk, which then turned to dark. Now, the glowing neon lights and street lamps competed for the blonde’s attention. 

“Do you ever imagine what this would look like with poor vision?”

“Hmm?” Lexa’s brows furrow, turning her attention to the blonde. 

“Over there,” Clarke points down the street, filled with brake lights and street lamps, “can you imagine how all of that would look if you couldn’t see the lines clearly?”

“Sounds abstract,” Lexa tries. 

“I think I’m going to try to create the image,” Clarke turns to Lexa, fists clenched near her chest, bouncing up and down. Lexa believed this to be her first time seeing inspiration enter the blonde, noticing that the blue eyes glistened like a meadow in the morning dew. She was in awe of the various ways Clarke’s beauty would shine. 

“Clarke?” an unfamiliar voice interrupts their moment.

Lexa looks over Clarke’s shoulder to see a brown, floppy haired guy approaching them. She didn’t know him but already decided she didn’t trust him, based on the way he was eyeing Clarke. 

“Finn,” Clarke’s tone is masked; Lexa is unsure how to read it, “visiting your folks in town?”

Clarke clearly knew the guy; Lexa let her guard down slightly.

“Yes,” He reaches out his arms, inviting Clarke in for an embrace, “they would love to see you! They ask about you all the time.”

Clarke offers him a quick, side hug. Lexa couldn’t quite detect the feeling rising in her stomach; it was something likened to the feeling you get just before winning only to find out you lost at the last second. She wanted to step in between them, to wrap her arm around Clarke or something to establish herself; she refrained.

“Some other time, possibly,” Clarke smiles, looking over her shoulder to Lexa, “Finn, this is Lexa.” 

Lexa steps up, accepting his handshake with a firm grip, “Finn, nice to meet you.” She does her best to flash her most brazen smile. 

“Hi,” He squeaks out, shaking his hand slightly after Lexa released her grip. 

“We were about to head back to Lexa’s. Have a nice evening!” 

Lexa noted that Clarke’s voice was laced with something deeper than courtesy; it was too subtle to be seething but there was something dark there, hiding underneath the blonde’s raspy register. Lexa guessed the two had dated before. It was the simplest explanation for the awkwardness; at least, Lexa hoped date was past tense. It would be a shame if Clarke were still involved with this dude.

“Sorry about that,” Clarke whispers into Lexa’s ear, “Long story, but he is my ex.”

“Is he threatening?” 

Clarke barks out a laugh, quickly covering her mouth before, “God no, he is harmless… He was super clingy after I broke things off with him. I’m just expecting some late night texts to roll through since he just saw me. It’s been a couple months since I last heard from him and I doubt that streak of silence will continue.” Clarke sighs. 

Lexa was pleased to hear the guy was old news but didn’t like his lack of respect. If the persistent fool continued, she figured some influence from her side might be enough to keep him at bay. Those are some possessive thoughts, Lexa; she cautioned herself. 

“Want to watch a movie in bed?” Lexa offers, remembering that Clarke’s favorite thing in the world was cinema. 

“Really?” Clarke’s face radiated with pure joy. 

“Yea,” Lexa giggles, no doubt Clarke knew Lexa wasn’t the biggest fan of film, “your choice, of course.”

“Let’s hurry along then!” Clarke shouts, grabbing Lexa’s hand, leading them down the two blocks to her apartment tower. 

*******

Clarke selected a movie with the expectation that the two would spend less time focusing on the movie and more time touching each other. She was correct. Through the first two acts of the film, Clarke found herself underneath the brunette, kissing and grinding against her. It felt like her high school days with a crush, piled up on the sofa, feet and legs intertwined as they kissed. 

“Wait,” Clarke presses against Lexa’s chest, creating some distance between them, “you have to watch this part.” 

Lexa obeys, lifting off of Clarke to a seated position so that she could watch the screen. It was worth noting that the television screen in the guest suite was easily the size of one for an at-home movie theater. She didn’t understand how someone like Lexa, whom is not a cinema fan, would have a setup such as this. 

“Yep, fascinating,” Lexa mimics pulling the trigger on a pistol, “fastest gunman in the west.” 

Clarke giggles, knowing Lexa didn’t understand that this was the defining moment for their protagonist. He finally met and understood his full potential and now could go on to save his beloved. 

“Come here,” Clarke pulls Lexa on top of her again. A gasp escapes her lips when Lexa’s knee slides up Clarke’s legs, separating them before stopping against her center; her arousal dripped at the contact. She feels the full weight of the girl on top of her, tugging at her pants. 

“Off,” Lexa groans between kisses. 

Clarke arches, helping Lexa to remove her pants. She makes quick work in relieving the brunette of her pants, too. She feels Lexa tugging on her shirt; obliging, she lifts her arms letting the garment slip overhead. Hot skin presses against her; it was soft to touch and sweet to smell. Clarke gripped the woman’s shoulders, pulling herself closer to the brunette, situating herself flush against the goddess. 

After the long day, Clarke was exhausted after her first orgasm. Normally, she and Lexa would go for more rounds than she cared to count, but tonight, she wanted to sleep in the girl’s arms, holding her close. She knew Lexa always let her fall asleep first before sneaking off back to her own bed; this time, Clarke wanted to ask her stay. 

The more time she spent with Lexa, the more Clarke knew she wanted more from her; wanted to give more of herself to the woman. She was ready for more and hoped it was mutual. 

“I’m going to let you go to sleep,” Lexa whispers, making her anticipated move to leave the bed. 

Clarke reaches out, wrapping her arms around Lexa’s waist, “stay the night with me,” she whispers into Lexa’s neck. Briefly, she can feel Lexa’s body go rigid but just as quickly as it appeared the girl’s frame relaxed.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Lexa’s voice wavered. 

Clarke nodded as she pulled the girl back into the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to send a quick thanks to everyone for sticking with this story! :)


	30. Trying

“I think you should go back,” Clarke offers, as she weaves her fingers through Lexa’s, gently rubbing the surface areas of the girl’s fingertips. 

This was their last morning together before Clarke would depart, returning home. Over the past couple of days, she had grown accustomed to falling asleep in the brunette’s arms. It made her sad to think about not waking up to that perfectly chiseled jawline and the taste of those plump lips first thing in the am. 

“I think you should stay here,” Lexa teases back, pulling Clarke on top of her. 

Clarke squirmed, situating herself atop of the girl, the warmth building from their naked bodies starting to irritate her. She quickly learned that sharing a bed with Lexa meant night pajamas were a thing of the past; she didn’t mind. 

“Well…” Clarke purrs, thinking that it wouldn’t hurt to extend her stay. 

Suddenly, the elevator dings, alerting the snuggling pair to a visitor. 

“I’m so glad you have me on that list! Did you know you have new doorman?” A woman with smooth, caramel skin and naturally curly hair traipses into Lexa’s suite. 

“Shit,” Lexa hisses, scrambling from underneath Clarke to wrap a blanket around herself, “Here.” She hands a robe to Clarke. 

Clarke slips it around her shoulders, tying it in time before the stranger rounded the corner, entering Lexa’s bedroom. 

“Oh,” the woman halts, eyebrows stretching, creasing her forehead, “You have company.”

Clarke takes a moment to observe Lexa. She notices the brunette has managed to put some distance between them, standing up near the window rather than remaining in her spot next to Clarke on the bed. She was unable to read whether or not this woman was an ex or current lover; Lexa’s face wasn’t betraying her. She had to admit, seeing Lexa maintain composure was impressive. 

“Costia, this is Clarke.” Lexa gestures to Clarke then back to the woman, “Clarke, this is Costia.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Costia flashes a toothy grin, extending a hand to Clarke. 

Clarke eyes the stranger’s hand, trying to understand who this was woman was and why she had access to Lexa’s apartment; she accepts the gesture. 

“What is going on here?” Clarke cuts to the chase. 

Costia coughs, “Lexa, I think it’s best if I wait in the lobby.”

“Yea,” Lexa croaks. 

Once the elevator doors close, Clarke rises from the bed, grabbing her clothes from the floor. She wasn’t sure what was going on but was damn sure that she didn’t want to have this conversation naked. She finds her underwear, slipping them on underneath the robe. It was silly but she didn’t want Lexa to see her naked; something about it exposed how vulnerable she felt. 

“Clarke, it’s not what you think.”

She looks up, staring directly into Lexa’s eyes. The woman’s face is littered with concern as she fights to maintain her stoic composure. Clarke could see the vulnerabilities in the deep swallows the brunette made and the clenching of her jaws; Lexa wasn’t calm. 

“Please enlighten me.”

Having now fully dressed herself, Clarke returns to a seated position on the edge of the bed. She practices her breathing technique; breathe in for ten seconds, hold, breathe out for ten seconds, hold, and repeat. This helps her to center herself, creating distance between Clarke and her own emotions. 

“Costia is… was,” Lexa corrects, “someone I would regularly hook up with. She and I come from a similar background and shared the same outlook on relationships and sex.”

“First of all, It seems like she is a little more than that since she felt comfortable enough rolling up into your apartment unannounced. Second of all, what the fuck is this,” Clarke huffs, holding up her fingers into air quotes, “List?”

So much for the calming technique.

“I mean we are close friends, too.”

“Jesus,” Clarke stands, grabbing her phone from the nightstand, deciding it was time to get some space from the situation. Scrolling through her inbox, she checks the flight information that Lexa forwarded. Her flight leaves at five in the evening, which is still several hours away. Clarke deliberated; she had some friends in the city that she could catch up with in order to fill time before having to be at the airport. Hoping one of them is available; she sends some texts out to a few friends on her way to the elevator. 

“Clarke, don’t leave like this. We’re not even,” Lexa falters. 

“dating?” Clarke turns on her heels, staring at Lexa.

“We haven’t made anything official! I didn’t break any code or trust,” Lexa exhales a forceful breath through her nostrils since her mouth was in a tight line.

“I know,” Clarke matches Lexa’s exhale, lowering her tone, “this came out of nowhere for me and I am probably more upset with myself for feeling some type of way about all of this, okay?”

She didn’t want to say more of that. The thought of revealing how vulnerable she felt right now was killing her. She knew Lexa didn’t do anything wrong but seeing how comfortable that woman was made Clarke feel irrelevant; that she was no different from the other women in Lexa’s lives. She was noticing this was a reoccurring theme. 

“Don’t leave. Let’s just talk it out.”

“I can’t do that right now,” Clarke turns her back on Lexa, resuming her escape. 

******

Lexa stands in the empty apartment, waiting on the elevator doors to reopen with Clarke having changed her mind. She wanted to chase after the girl but knew that would only push her away, further. When they do open again, Costia is the occupant.

“I watched your girl storm out of the building and figured it was safe for me to return,” Costia teases, trying to pull Lexa into a hug. Lexa steps out of reach.

“What’s going on?” Costia’s brows furrow, her eyes searching Lexa’s for answers. 

“You couldn’t call or text?” Lexa growls. 

“Since when do you have people for over-nighters?!” Costia laughs, following Lexa into the kitchen.

“Since I met someone I wanted to be serious with,” Lexa pinches the bridge of her nose as she leans against the marbled, kitchen island. 

“Whoa,” Costia purses her lips, making a low whistle, “maybe you should communicate things like that.”

“Sorry if my first thought isn’t to inform you on every life update,” Lexa crawls into the barstool, slumping onto the counter.

Costia holds her hands up, palms out, “Easy, I’m just saying a quick text like,” she adjust her voice, mimicking Lexa, “by the way, Cos, I have a girlfriend now so no random visits.” She pauses, waiting to see if her impression landed before continuing, “You know I would honor that. Hell, how many times have I sent something similar to you over the years?”

Lexa sighs, puffing out her cheeks as if blowing up a balloon, “You’re right.”

“I’m always right, that’s not the point,” Costia smiles, once again seeing if she can uplift Lexa’s mood, “the point is how are you going to make it right with blondie?”

“Clarke.”

“Right, Clarke. How are you going to fix it?”

Great question, Lexa thinks to herself. She knows the blonde needs some space. Anytime something overwhelmed Clarke, the girl’s first move was to distance herself from it. More often than not, she would return with a different and calmer perspective. Lexa knew time should be on her side but a part of her worried space would worsen things.

She could see that Clarke was struggling with understanding Lexa’s feelings and intentions. Lexa knew she needed to do something to show the girl that she was serious. She needed to move back and be physically and emotionally present with Clarke.

She grabs her phone, continuing to ignore Costia, “Monty, I need a flight out and it’s time to do some house-hunting.”


	31. Want

“I can’t believe you…” Anya groans, dragging Lexa’s luggage into the vacant living space, “bought a house.”

Lexa grabs the handle, helping her sister hoist it onto the couch. She wondered what all was packed into this single bag. Buying the house and moving back to her home town all happened so fast; therefore, her packing did not include her normal meticulous procedure. When Monty suggested this house and its price, Lexa had little doubt. He knew her better than most people, at least regarding material things; if anyone knew her preferred living and traveling space, it was Monty. 

“Is there a reason you’re not hiring movers?” Anya falls into the sofa, arms and legs splayed out like a starfish. 

“Oh, I did hire movers. They should be here in an hour.” Lexa checks her phone for the time. Yep, they had little less than hour before the movers would show. 

“What the hell,” Anya throws her arms up, “am I doing here then?”

“I just wanted to see you,” Lexa teases, tossing a new bag of twizzlers at her sister. 

Anya grins as she catches the bag, setting it down on the couch before running up to Lexa, embracing her in a tight hug, “I’m so glad you’re moving back.”

Lexa sighs, relaxing her body into the embrace, “Too bad Bell doesn’t share that sentiment.”

“He’ll come around,” Anya tries to reassure Lexa, “him and Clarke seem to have mended things.” 

Lexa’s forehead wrinkles; Clarke never discussed her situation with Bell. She had to admit, it was painful to know that her brother made an effort with Clarke but not Lexa. The circumstances were varying but still, it didn’t feel good.

“Speaking of,” Anya interrupts Lexa’s thoughts, “I figured Clarke would be here, up your ass the whole time.”

“Ah,” Lexa scratches her head, mindlessly kicking at some bags sitting on the floor, “we didn’t part on the greatest note.”

Anya groans, dragging her hands down her face, “What did you do?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t heard,” Lexa chuckles. She was sure Clarke would talk to Raven about what happened and then Raven could tell Anya. Hell, there was an even chance Clarke would tell Anya about it all, “Considering you and Raven are— f”

“Uh, no.” Anya covers Lexa’s mouth with her hand, “We’re not discussing that. Own up, what did you do?”

“How do you know she didn’t do something?”

Anya taps her foot, hands on hips now, “because you moved here.” 

“Touché.” 

Lexa explains what happened. Though, it was difficult to get through the details over Anya’s groaning and whining of disappointment. A couple times, through the story, Anya walked up to Lexa to flick her on the forehead. It didn’t help that Anya was not the biggest Costia fan. They never got along and Anya felt like Costia was a bad influence on her baby sister. Lexa knew that if anything, it was the other way around but there was no convincing her older sister of that.

“How is it that Costia has more sense than you do?”

“You’re making me feel great,” Lexa coldly replies. 

“Well,” Anya pokes Lexa’s chest, “you need to fix this.”

“Obviously, which is why I bought this place and moved back, dip shit.”

“Have you talked to her?” 

“Not yet,” Lexa walks over to a bouquet of flowers, “I plan on talking to her in person.”

“Not a bad idea, when?”

Lexa checks the flowers, making sure they looked fresh, “today, probably here in a moment. I’m anxious to see her.”

***************************

“Hey, mopey,” Raven calls out to Clarke, opening the curtains to allow a flood of life into the room.

“Raven,” Clarke whines. 

“Nope, you have a guest. Get up.”

“A guest?” Clarke rises from the blankets, crawling to the edge of her bed to look out the window. There she saw a very familiar Jeep; Lexa was here. 

“How is this possible,” She mumbles, pushing past Raven in the doorway. 

Clarke hasn’t heard from the brunette since their weekend in New York. Granted, that was less than a week ago but still, Clarke thought it likely Lexa wouldn’t talk to her again. She never expected the girl to show up on her front door step.

Opening the door, Clarke’s nose immediately fills with the sandalwood that liked to cling to Lexa. She wasn’t ready for the site before her; a pouty Lexa with a bouquet of flowers in hand. Her heart skipped at the image. 

“Lexa,” she breathes out.

“Clarke,” Lexa mirrors and hands the flowers to her.

She takes them, setting them down on the patio table, “what are you doing here?”

“Something I should have done earlier,” Lexa reaches out, taking Clarke’s hand, “I want you to know where I stand with things. Please know that I’m not placing any obligations on you or us, but I want to be clear. Okay?”

Clarke nods.

“Okay, good,” Lexa continues, “I want you and I want us. When you’re ready, I want you to be my girlfriend. I bought a house here and I—s” 

“You bought a what?” Clarke wasn’t sure she heard correctly. Did Lexa really just say she bought a house?

“Let me finish,” Lexa grins. “I bought a house here to show you I’m serious. You’re not like other girls to me. Okay, now you can freak out,” She laughs. 

“Wow,” Clarke inhales, holding her breath to steady her beating heart. 

All Clarke could think about since that day was how quickly she fell for Lexa. It was startling. She thought for certain her behavior after meeting Costia would scare Lexa away. Instead, the girl was standing at her doorstep, declaring her feelings. This was the conversation that Clarke both regretted and wanted at the same time. She struggled with identifying her own wants and desires but having tasted the loss of Lexa’s presence in her life, Clarke knew what she wanted. She wanted Lexa.

“I want you,” Clarke rushes up to Lexa, throwing her arms around her, “and I want to be yours.”

Clarke celebrates in Lexa’s laughter; they both stand on the porch, holding onto each other, giggling like hyenas. 

“Want to see my new place?” Lexa pulls back enough to look into Clarke’s eyes.

“Absolutely but first,” Clarke tugs on Lexa’s shirt, “mulligan.”


	32. Smiley Face

The gym radiated the same musty stench Lexa left behind when Bellamy banished her. She looked around the room, smiling and nodding at all the familiar faces; a few of them rushing up to greet her with an embrace. She stood amongst the trainees, trying to appear more confident than she felt. 

Clarke convinced Lexa to approach Bellamy in person to see about making amends. The blonde knew the distance between the siblings was weighing heavily on Lexa. She appreciated the concern and knew Clarke was right; she wouldn’t truly feel any relief if she didn’t make more of an effort to reconcile.

Lexa chose confronting him at the gym with hopes that he will behave and not be overly dramatic. 

“Lexa?”

Fingers crossed.

“Hey, Bell.”

“What are you doing here?” His tone was even, barely loud enough to hear over the sound of people grappling on the mats. 

“To talk to you,” Lexa releases the breath she was holding onto, letting it escape through both nostrils, “It’s time you stop ignoring me and have a fucking conversation.”

She didn’t mean for that last part to come out aggressively. It was frustrating to have to remind your oldest sibling that they are being a brat; maybe she should have brought Anya along to mediate.

“Okay,” his shoulders slouch. 

This was a nice surprise.

“Okay,” She repeats. 

“Do we have to do this here or can we go grab coffee?” His eyebrows rise, brightening his faces just a touch. 

“Sure,” Lexa nods, smiling faintly, “are you ready now?”

“I guess I have to be,” He releases a low whistle, relieving the pressure building in his lungs.

Lexa decided she would drive them both to the coffee shop. She was not about to risk him changing his mind to drive home and lock himself away in his room. He didn’t put up much of an argument, only reminded her that she would need to return him to the gym. The coffee shop was only a few miles down the road so bringing him back to the gym wouldn’t be too much out of her way. Besides, what else did she have going on? Clarke was off meeting some obligations put upon her by her mom and Anya was working a late shift at the hospital.

Once entering the coffee shop, they are greeted by a familiar redhead. 

“Lexa!” The girl squeals, running around the corner to throw herself onto Lexa. 

She manages to step back, keeping an arm’s length distance between herself and the former lover, “Nice to see,” Lexa couldn’t remember her name, “you again.”

“Are you here to stay?”

“Yep, for now.” Lexa smiles, trying to make her way around the girl to stand at the counter. She notices the sideways glances Bellamy is giving them.

Great, this will surely fuel his impression that Lexa is and will always be a Gustus; not the most preferred way to begin an outing intended for mending. She would have to hope for the best. 

After managing to place her order, Lexa looks to see if the library nook was available. The corners of her mouth crash into her cheeks once she spots the available seats. 

Maybe things were already turning around.

“You and Clarke both love this spot,” Bellamy says between pulling out his seat and setting his coffee and bagel onto the table. 

She liked knowing this. Clarke and Lexa have yet to enjoy this place together; mostly because Lexa didn’t know the redhead’s schedule. She never willingly walked into drama. Knowing that they both loved this spot made her want to make this their very own space.

“Because it’s the best,” Lexa grits her teeth, smiling as hard as she can until her eyes close shut.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Bellamy giggles. 

Lexa knew making this face would amuse him; Bell always enjoyed her range of silly faces. 

Her attention is drawn to the tea bag dangling from her mug. The redhead drew a smile on it. Lexa slowly blinks; she needed to nip this in the bud sooner than later. After her time with Bell, she was going to send a text to the girl explaining that she was now in a relationship and the girl’s services would no longer be needed. Of course, she wasn’t going to word it exactly that way; she had some tact.

“Do you want to start?” She offers to Bellamy before sipping on her Earl Grey.

“Sure,” He shifts the mug back and forth between palms, “I don’t know how to be happy for you. I know I didn’t have a right to claim Clarke, but I hoped she would eventually feel the same way for me.”

“You made amends with her though,” Lexa cuts in.

“Yea,” He nods, biting the inside of his lip, “She wasn’t the one that broke a promise.”

Here we go.

“But,” Bellamy continues before Lexa can respond, “I realize now that she means something to you. I thought you were making her another notch in your belt.”

“It isn’t about that for me,” Lexa holds up her hand, halting Bellamy’s next response, “I don’t just sleep with women because I can. I used it to fill some sort of loneliness I harbored. I would never intentionally disrespect these girls.”

“It doesn’t look that way,” He arches his eyebrows, “It looks like what Gustus does.”

“I get that but it isn’t; okay?”

“Sure,” he scratches his brow ridge, “So what is Clarke?”

“We’re dating,” She slows down her cadence, emphasizing this next part, “exclusively.”

She watches his reaction. First his brows pinch together as he tilts his head back and forth as if changing the angle would help him process her words. After a moment, he stops and his eyebrows shoot up, kissing his hairline. 

“Wow,” He breathes out, “This is the real deal, huh?”

“Yea,” Lexa nods, “I wouldn’t risk hurting you if it weren’t.”

He seems to consider this. 

“Ah,” he shakes his head, placing his face into his palms, sliding his hands across his face, “I want to be happy for you, I do, but I can’t right now.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not willing to get into that at the moment.”

“Jesus, Bell why are we having this conversation then?”

“I want to rebuild things, okay? I just can’t be super happy for you and Clarke at the moment. I will get there though.”

“Promise?”

He sticks out his pinky and Lexa extends her own, linking their pinkies together. It was understood; they would eventually fix things and be back to normal.


	33. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end of chapter notes for update about part 2 :)

“Wow,” Anya mouthed, walking around Lexa’s newly furnished home, “I like what Clarke has done with the place.”

“Excuse me?” Lexa laughs. 

After purchasing the home, Clarke insisted that Lexa select some furnishings on her own, rather than having Monty make all the decisions. Lexa tried to argue that Monty was really good at his job and knew the things Lexa was interested in and enjoyed. Clarke was adamant that this place was different and encouraged Lexa to pour more of her heart into the place; so, Lexa did. Or at least, she did her best. 

“This place reeks of Clarke Griffin. I mean,” Anya points at the art pieces hanging on the wall, “and the blankets.”

Lexa takes a moment to look around the room, realizing that she could see Anya’s point; there were pieces in the home that Lexa would have never considered before meeting Clarke. 

“Do you think it’s a good or bad influence,” Lexa grins, allowing her eyes to squint at her big sister. 

Anya returns the smile, “It’s good.”

“Did I hear my name?” Clarke walks into the room with her hands full of DVD cases. 

“Anya says my place reeks of you,” Lexa teases, walking up to the blonde to kiss her on the forehead. Clarke leans into the gesture.

“It’s a good thing though,” Anya defends.

“When is the word reek associated with anything good,” a few giggles escape Clarke’s mouth as she sticks out her tongue at Anya.

“Poor phrasing,” Anya shrugs.

Lexa stands behind Clarke, wrapping her arms around the girl’s waist. Clarke nuzzles closer; Lexa smiles as sweet notes from the girl’s hair fill her lungs. 

“Do you know if Bell is showing?” Lexa tosses the question out into the room, not really directing it at either Anya or Clarke; either one could know this answer.

Since Lexa finished making her newly bought house look like a home, she thought it would be nice to throw a house party. She wanted to reclaim the sense of community she once felt here growing up. She hopes that Bellamy will come. Their last conversation left some things in the air but there was an understanding that they would at least try. Despite the conversation, however, she has barely heard from him; no more than a hi or how are you from him since. She sent him a text inviting him to the party and his response was a thumbs up.

“He acted like he was going to come,” Clarke nodded, gently squeezing Lexa’s hand. 

Lexa was hopeful.

*******************

Bellamy did attend.

The moment she spotted his dark, messy hair stepping into the great room, Lexa realized she spent more time focusing on whether or not he would show rather than what she would do if he did. 

She decided to approach him and go from there.

“Hey,” She smiles, handing him a cocktail. 

“Thanks,” He mirrors her smile, refusing the drink, “I think it’s best if I stick to water, please.”

Great. He was still in his feelings about things, but at least he cared enough to stay sober in order to keep from making a fool of himself. 

“No problem,” She retracts her offer and sets the beverage down onto the counter. 

“Bellamy!” 

Bellamy and Lexa both look over their shoulders to find an approaching Clarke. A pinging in Lexa’s stomach appeared at the thought of Clarke and Bellamy still being so friendly with one another. A sharpness in her own heart fought for attention when she realized her own sibling seemed to care more about a relationship with someone over his own sibling. She shook off the thoughts; this was not the time or place. 

Clarke weaved her arm through Lexa’s, pulling them close to one another, “I’m glad you made it.” She directs to Bellamy. 

Lexa knew Clarke’s actions were a statement; she was making sure Bellamy understood her choice. The gesture made Lexa happy but her anxiety wouldn’t allow her to enjoy the moment for too long. She dreaded how much this would pour salt into Bellamy’s wounded ego.

“This is a beautiful house, Lexa.” Bellamy looks around, his eyes darting across all the various decorations and furniture. 

“Isn’t it?” Anya jumps into the conversation, slightly startling Lexa and Bellamy. They both flinch at the sound of her voice. 

“I may consider moving in here with Lex rather than staying at that dump with you, Bell.” Anya teases. 

Clarke chokes on the sip of her drink.

“Relax Griffey,” Anya coos, “I’m only kidding. You and Lexa get to keep your sex dungeon.”

“On that note,” Bellamy cuts in, “I’m just going to help myself by taking a look around.”

“Seriously?” Lexa’s eyebrows arches as she stares daggers into Anya.

“Yea, I probably should have thought through that joke first,” Anya sighs, “I’m going to check on him.”

“Hey,” Clarke whispers, bringing Lexa’s attention to blue eyes earnestly vying for her attention.

“Hi,” Lexa smiles.

“It’s all going to work out,” Clarke reminds her. 

Lexa agreed but her impatience wanted things to work out now. There were so many things she needed to work through on her own, set aside those things she needed to work through with her family. 

“After years of therapy,” Lexa jokes. 

“My girlfriend can help with that,” Anya cuts in, once again startling Lexa.

“I swear to god where do you keep coming from?” Lexa hisses. 

“Wait,” Lexa blinks, tilting her head to the side, “did you say girlfriend?”

“Mhmm, so anyway…”

“No, you don’t get to breeze past that. Who?”

“What do you mean who?”

“Who is your girlfriend?”

“Raven, obviously.” Anya flicks her wrist.

“How is that obvious? And how can she help?”

“Raven is a therapist,” Clarke answers the question for Anya. 

Lexa had so many questions; most of which would likely not be answered within the constructs of the current conversation. She settled with the information given at hand, “Okay, Anya you have to stop being so secretive, seriously.”

Anya shrugs, “Raven knows some really stellar family therapists. I’ve been considering getting our family together to work through some issues. Is this something you would want, too?”

Lexa released the breath she was holding, “Actually, that sounds like a great idea. Good luck convincing the other three to join, though.”

“Please,” Anya scoffs, “easy as pie… just leave them to me.” 

Later that night, Lexa lied in bed, staring at the ceiling as Clarke slept peacefully next to her. Unlike the previous nights, she was not lying awake riddled with anxiety or guilt but rather with a sense of confidence. For once, she started to feel hopeful that there was a plan to settle some old wounds; not only for her but for her whole family, too. It would require a lot of work but she knew it would make her a better version of herself. She was tired of being the bluebird that never allowed anyone in; she would share her space, she would share herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate all the support! For now, this is the end.  
> I have some ideas for a part 2, but let me know if you're interested in seeing a continuation of this story! 
> 
> Thanks, again, for taking this journey with me.
> 
> ***UPDATE***  
> "Cardinal Rule" is the title for part two... chapter one is posted. Hope you enjoy! Thanks!


End file.
